The Dating Game
by the-littlest-pumpkin
Summary: Quinn doesn't understand why everyone cares so much about her love life. Why does it matter if she's always been single, is obsessed with work and has a worrying attachment to her dog? She has her longest friend, Santana, and her best friend, Rachel. Not to mention the world's most handsome golden retreiver. And she's perfectly happy, thank you very much. AU Quinntana/Faberry
1. Chapter 1

_Hello! So, for those of you who read and reviwed Sweetie Pie's Bakery, thank you very much and this is the new fic I have been tlaking about. Hope you all enjoy just as much._

_For the rest of you, hope you enjoy my new story! Either Quinntana or Faberry is endgame, but I'm not revealing which. Hope you enjoy. Please review and let me know what you all think of the new story, and if it's worth continuing :) thank you!  
_

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**I've got a shelf full of books and most of my teeth, two pairs of socks and a door with a lock – **_**Paolo Nutini, Pencil Full of Lead**_

"Hey, Q! Do you have any eggs?"

Quinn frowned, her lip curling in confusion at the voice calling from the kitchen. Barney clattered back and forth on the hardwood floor below her, and she rubbed her sleepy eyes with the side of her fists. Padding down the staircase in her pyjamas, she winced as the cold metal pressed her skin through a hole in the bottom of her sock. As always, Barney met her at the bottom, barking excitably and almost drowning out the sound of movement from the kitchen. She couldn't help but grin as she watched him waiting patiently, and quickly stooped down to ruffle his ears as she passed, eager to discover why there was an alien voice in her kitchen.

"Hey, Mister. How's tricks?" She asked casually, imagining his reply, "Did you sleep okay?" She paused again, "Good."

She rounded the corner and her questions were answered as she saw Santana stood in the corner, busying herself by rooting through the fridge, "Seriously, Q!" She called, "This whole talking to your dog thing has gone too far. He's never going to reply. Eggs?"

Santana was always telling her that it was sad that Quinn had a faithful companion to spend her time with. Apparently unconditional love from another creature was pathetic. But when she considered that Santana had the emotional range of The Hulk, it was unsurprising that she didn't understand.

The apartment was airy and spacious, with hardwood floor downstairs and bare brickwork stretching up to the high ceilings. A wrought iron spiral staircase stood proudly in the centre of the room below a large skylight in the roof, separating the living and dining/kitchen area and leading up to a maisonette balcony housing the bedroom and bathroom. A large wooden desk acting as a work-station sat unassumingly in the corner, scattered with various intricate cogs and delicate tools. In the living room there was a large comfy sofa – covered by a tattered patchwork blanket and a thin layer of dog-hair – that swallowed anyone who attempted to sit on it and a thick-piled rug covering the cold wood floor. Opposite the sofa there were two huge windows – original features from when the apartment building was a warehouse, and an acoustic guitar sat on a stand in the corner, whilst the walls were covered with bookshelves, various photographs, paintings and fabric wall-hangings.

Quinn had to admit, it definitely needed a tidying up. She was constantly making excuses for the magazines and instruction manuals piled up either side of the TV, stacks of old books being used as end tables, clothes strewn over the bedroom floor and the occasional dirty plate left overnight on the coffee table. She tried not to acknowledge the mess, finding that it just left her feeling guilty. The apartment was nothing special, but aside from the mess she liked to think she'd done a good job of making it her own, and usually it was nice that Rachel and Santana could come and go freely – although sometimes _too_ freely.

"Um, no?" Quinn looked at Santana like she'd gone insane – which she was worried could be true – and turned to the coffee maker. If she was going to survive any interaction with Santana this early on a morning then she needed coffee. To her surprise, the brunette thrust a full cup into her hands, and she accepted it gratefully. The blonde stared down at it for a second, attempting to comprehend why Santana was almost behaving like a normal human, before taking a large sip, relishing the hot liquid and turning her attention back to Santana's presence with a bewildered frown. "Hey. Santana?"

"Yeah?" The girl didn't look up as she slammed the fridge shut with a sigh and turned to the cupboards. Quinn prodded Barney with her toe as he trotted over to Santana to inspect her actions, and the girl resigned herself to greeting the golden retriever with an absent-minded pat on the head. He wasn't the smartest dog, but he sure was persistent.

"Why are you in my apartment?" Quinn asked simply. Santana sighed heavily, turning on her heel to face Quinn with a look of affronted shock.

"Wow. Rude." She raised her eyebrows, "I expect better of you, Quinn." She added solemnly, and the blonde raised her eyebrows incredulously.

"Santana, its eight am! _And_ my day off. And you woke me up." She listed begrudgingly, but the brunette rolled her eyes.

"Your _day off_?" Santana repeated scathingly, "Please, what exactly am I keeping you from?" She raised an eyebrow challengingly, and Quinn opened her mouth to reply, closing it again quickly when she couldn't think of any plans she had had, aside from relishing having the whole bed to herself after making Barney sleep downstairs for a change, "Exactly. Sorry to force you into human contact, Q."

"Rachel's coming over later." Quinn countered triumphantly, taking a sip of her coffee.

"Ooh, your girlfriend." She taunted, brushing her off with a shrug, "Whatever. Seeing Berry is like seeing me but less interesting, entertaining and tolerable. It doesn't count as socialising."

"Why not?" Quinn frowned petulantly. Both of her best friends insisted on harassing her about her (lack of) social life _almost _every time they saw her. Think that might get monotonous and irritating? Yes. Yes it did.

"Because you need to spend more time with real people than just your two best friends!" Santana replied exasperatedly. This was a conversation they'd had many times.

"I see Rachel's dads, too." The blonde shrugged.

"Still doesn't count! You don't even leave your apartment to goto _work_. Like, what do you even _do? _Are you a phone sex worker?_"_

"You _know _what I do." Quinn scoffed, placing her cup on the counter and hoisting herself up beside it.

"I have _no idea_ what you do." Santana shook her head and Quinn's jaw dropped with indignant irritation, "But honestly, I don't particularly care; you don't have the experience to be a sex worker. Anyway, unlike you, I'm going to work soon, I just wanted some breakfast."

"So you decided to grace me with your presence?" Quinn raised a sceptical eyebrow.

"Yes." She replied sweetly, "And also, I kind of I need a favour." She added in one breath, and Quinn rolled her eyes.

"What do you want now?" She asked, staring evenly at Santana, "More money? My iPod that you never returned? Barney? My kidneys?"

"Ugh, don't be so dramatic." Santana rolled her eyes impatiently, "Plus, like I'd even _want _your lumpy dog. Although, your kidneys are in better shape than mine, so…dibs." She chuckled, "I just need to borrow a pair of tights. I laddered mine on the way here and I have work in..." she checked her wrist before realising she had no watch, and looked to the clock on the kitchen wall, "Half an hour. So…you know, hurry along." She waved a hand and the blonde quirked an eyebrow.

"Um, firstly, he _may_ be lumpy but he is also handsome and clever. Aren't you, Barnster?" She raised her eyebrows at the golden retriever, who wagged his tail in a clueless response, "Also, don't think I can help you. Sorry." Quinn shrugged and Santana's lip curled in confusion.

"What?"

"I don't have any tights." The blonde replied, jumping off the counter and turning to open the cupboard she had been sat in front of, pulling out a box of cereal, "Get me a bowl."

"What do you mean you don't have any tights?" She looked incredulously at the blonde as she leaned down to open the cupboard door beside her, gathering two bowls and spoons for good measure.

"I don't have any." Quinn repeated, "Why would I? I never wear dresses."

"Yeah but like, I never wear underwear, but I still _own_ a few pairs." Santana countered as the dog lost interest and padded out in the direction of the sofa.

"Well, sorry," the blonde shrugged, unaffected by Santana's previous comment, "But I don't wear tights, nor do I own them." She finished pouring her cereal and left the kitchen, shoving Barney over to settle herself beside him on the sofa. "Why do you need tights anyway? Where's your uniform?" She craned her neck to look over the back of the sofa, watching as Santana quickly poured herself a bowl and hurried out after her.

"Some dude is visiting from Head Office and I'm supposed to show him around." The brunette explained dismissively, squeezing into the limited space beside Quinn. The blonde huffed as she shifted closer to Barney, "It's actually kind of nice to have a day without luminous yellow striped pants." Santana continued, "_However_, what am I supposed to do about tights? I can't go to work with _this!_" She raised her leg with a severe lack of grace, holding her foot aloft to reveal a huge ladder from her knee to the inside of her thigh.

Santana had been a member of the New York Fire Department for five years, ever since she'd given up teaching ballet to snotty rich kids whose parents were usually something up-and-coming in the city. Now she spent her days fighting fires, or more often saving cats from trees, and relished the opportunity to tell random hot girls that she was one of New York's unsung heroes.

"Well, I would say don't lift your leg like that, but I know keeping your legs shut isn't your forte." Quinn chortled through her mouthful, smirking to herself.

"Haha." Santana dead-panned, "At least my legs aren't welded together, Sandra Dee. Now stop drooling over my thighs."

The blonde ignored the comment, flicking the TV on and switching over to a documentary about the Third Reich.

She was used to all of Santana's jibes about being a virgin, or frigid or a lesbian, or whatever idea she liked to entertain that day. It had got to the stage where it was water off a duck's back; Quinn called Santana a slut, Santana called Quinn a virgin, they both moved on with their lives. As Quinn was contemplating how two such good friends could be so abusive, she had light-bulb moment. She knew Santana wouldn't like it, but she _was _desperate.

"Oh!" She turned to Santana, "Well, Rachel's coming over in a little while, I can ask if she'll come early and bring tights?"

Santana's face contorted into an expression of disgust, "Ew. No. Firstly, like hell I'm putting my legs into anything that's had her stumps in them. Secondly, no way her hobbit britches would fit me. Thirdly, I intend to be gone a long time before her dwarf stench even enters your hallway." She shook her head, staring at Quinn disappointedly, "God, Q. I'm desperate, not brain-damaged."

Quinn rolled her eyes through the girl's speech, turning her attention to the figures on the screen as she ranted instead, "Okay, well she's coming at ten so you're all clear. And don't be so mean about her." She glared at the brunette, who snorted.

"Oh, please. It's not mean if it's true. It's honesty." Santana smiled sweetly, and the blonde stared at her thoughtfully for a second.

"That zit on your chin is really noticeable, by the way." She informed her with a polite smile, "Its honesty." She turned back to the TV, chuckling inwardly as Santana stared blankly at her, torn between insecurity, defensiveness and coming up with a biting comeback. She liked rendering Santana speechless.

She turned back to the TV, disgruntled, "So why is the hobbit coming over anyway? Do you need to polish your floors with her back hair?"

"No, she's coming to exorcise you from the apartment." Quinn replied without missing a beat, "We're just hanging out. We're both off work and we're having dinner with her dads tonight."

"Wow. That sounds like a joy." Santana's eyes widened sarcastically, "I physically can't imagine anything worse than dinner with three Berry's."

"They're nice people!" Quinn defended, "You know they are. I get that you don't like Rachel but you can keep your opinions to yourself." Santana rolled her eyes and Quinn resisted the urge to copy her, "I know you like to think you're my _world _just because I've known you longer, but Rachel is my best friend too. Plus her dads are totally awesome and they never complain about looking after him." She nodded to Barney, who lay peacefully beside her, glancing between the girls and the screen. Quinn liked to think he was giving an input that they were ignoring.

Quinn had a pretty good deal with Rachel's dads. They lived in an apartment incredibly similar to Quinn's – only considerably less messy – conveniently placed two streets down from her own, while Rachel lived further into the city. Their apartment was constantly full of various dogs, cats and birds, as they were both suckers for a stray animal. This meant that whenever she _did _ventureout, usually for groceries or when Rachel and Santana forced her into some awkward social situation, they were always willing to add Barney to the existing menagerie of animals in their apartment.

"Whatever." Santana dismissed, "They can't be that nice, they raised that Israeli hell-child."

She finished her cereal and pushed herself off the sofa, taking Quinn's empty bowl from her and depositing both in the kitchen.

"Anyway, if you can't help me I'll have to buy tights on my way to work, so I guess I'll see you later." Quinn turned her head to nod as Santana pushed her feet into her shoes.

"Sorry I couldn't help you." The blonde replied regretfully, but Santana shrugged.

"No problem. Enjoy your date with Berry." She added scathingly, rolling her eyes before turning on her heel and exiting the apartment with a wave. Quinn sighed heavily.

"What was _that?_" She gazed wide-eyed at Barney, who lifted his head to rest it on her leg, "I know right? Eight am! We could have had another _hour_, Barn-Door." She shook her head sadly, "It's okay for you, you'll go back to sleep on Rachel's lap as soon as she gets here! Little monkey."

She rolled her eyes as the dog's eyelids shut slowly, before pushing herself off the sofa and padding up the staircase with a yawn. She picked her way across the floor, avoiding various items of clothing, and pulled a pair of sweats and a t-shirt from the floor, showering quickly before returning downstairs. She sighed as she settled herself on the sofa, gazing around the apartment.

Biting her lip, she cut her gaze across to the desk in the corner, quickly averting her eyes.

"Should I do it, B?" She twisted her mouth at the dog at her side, who lifted his head to drop it onto her lap, gazing up at her with wide eyes. "I know I shouldn't. It's supposed to be my day off." Barney lay silently beside her, and she sighed heavily, gazing across at the desk again. "I could just finish making the parts so it's ready for assembly in the morning?" Barney's eyebrows appeared to twitch, and she relented, "Okay fine. I'll do it all tomorrow then. Spoilsport." She added bitterly, before taking a deep breath and brightening, "You wanna go for a walk?"

The retriever immediately jumped off the sofa with a small bark, and Quinn nodded reluctantly, "I thought as much. Okay, come on then."

She clambered to her feet and grabbed her battered skate shoes from beside the sofa, collapsing the backs as she forced her feet inside. After lifting her hoodie and Barney's collar and lead off one of the coat-pegs, she crouched down on her haunches to clasp the striped collar around the excitable dog's neck. Pulling on her hoodie, she pulled the door shut behind her and tugged on the lead as Barney attempted to drag her down the single flight of stairs, forcing him to slow his pace as she followed him out onto the street.

The blonde dog immediately crouched next to a lamp post, and she waited patiently as he cocked his leg, before giving his lead a tug and leading Barney round a familiar route. As they crossed the street to stroll past the usual stores and into the park across the street, a rotund woman with ruddy cheeks stopped them in their tracks to lean over and coo over the large blonde dog.

"Oh, he's just lovely!" She exclaimed, grinning as she rubbed Barney's ears and he relished the attention, "How old is he?" She glanced up at Quinn, who smiled politely.

"He's almost nine now. I've had him a while." She gazed fondly at her dog, who laid down to roll onto his back.

"Well he's gorgeous. Aren't you?" The woman gave his head another pat before excusing herself and hurrying off.

"Always the charmer, aren't you, Barn?" Quinn observed in a low voice, and the retriever glanced back at her as if to agree, wagging his tail enthusiastically.

They entered the park and Quinn glanced around before letting him off the lead, scanning the ground near-by for a large stick to throw for him. "I think we're out of luck today, Barney. Looks like you've already mauled them all."

Barney hung his head sadly with a small whimper, and she was instantly guilt-tripped, "Oh, don't get like that. We'll find you one." She took off wandering down the various paths in the park, finally finding a large stick and hurling it across the grassy common. Barney immediately shot off after it, appearing again a few moments later with a triumphant smile.

"Well done, good boy." She grinned, ruffling his ears before throwing the stick again. They repeated this drill over and over until Quinn checked the time on her phone. Grimacing, she demanded they turn back, leaving the stick behind them, much to Barney's dismay.

They returned to the apartment just before ten, bounding up the small flight of stairs and heading down the corridor that led only to Quinn's apartment. Barney sat patiently in front of the door as Quinn rifled through her pockets. Her frown became deeper and deeper ingrained in her face as she patted herself down, pulling out her phone and dog litter bags over and over until, with a heavy sigh, she finally accepted that her keys were most certainly not in her pockets, and most probably on the other side of her apartment door.

Shaking her head at her own foolishness, she dropped her forehead onto the varnished wood of the door as she pulled out her phone and dialled a familiar number. After listening to the dial tone for a few moments, the phone was answered in a flustered voice and she stood up straight as Rachel answered.

"Hey, what's up?" Rachel puffed.

"Hey, have you left home yet?" She inquired. There was a pause at the end of the phone.

"Um, yeah. I'm already on my way!" Rachel replied brightly, and Quinn let out a noise of exasperation. "What's up?"

"I took Barney for a walk so he wouldn't want to go out as soon as you arrived. But I left my keys inside so we're locked out." She groaned again, and Rachel couldn't resist laughing. Quinn rolled her eyes with a reluctant smirk, moving the phone away from her ear as the girl's loud laughter rang out through the phone.

"I'm sorry." The brunette recovered, "I'm just enjoying the irony of a locksmith forgetting her keys."

"Haa haa. I get it." Quinn deadpanned, "Anyway, I guess I'll just have to call the super." She sighed, and Rachel gave a small cough.

"Okay, so actually I lied, I haven't left home at all." She admitted quietly, and Quinn chuckled with relief, "I'll bring your key, I should be there by ten fifteen. Sorry."

"No, it's absolutely fine. Don't worry about it, for once your lateness is paying off!" The blonde chuckled and Rachel made a noise of protest.

"Alright, no need to rub it in. I'll be there soon. Byeeeee." Quinn grinned as Rachel hung up, before turning back to Barney, who was still sitting in front of the door, staring at her patiently.

"Sorry, dude." Quinn shrugged, "I forgot the key. Rachel's coming to save us."

Barney sighed heavily as he picked up his paws, lying flat in front of the door and resting his chin on his paws. Quinn nodded disappointedly before taking up a seat beside him, leaning back and resting her head on her apartment door.

Rachel hurried up the stairs at half past ten, issuing apologies and rambling about her subway journey, "…anyway," She finished, "I have your key here. Sorry I'm so late!"

"It's fine." Quinn was laid along the corridor, her head resting on Barney's side, "I have an awesome pillow." She smiled sweetly and Rachel chuckled as she slid her spare key into the lock. Moments later, Quinn and Barney were on their feet and the door was open.

"Oh! Here's your key." Rachel announced proudly as she picked up the bunch of keys from the sideboard next to the door.

"Yeah…I keep them next to the door so I don't forget them." Quinn admitted disappointedly, and Rachel stared at her for a second.

"Nice plan." The brunette nodded.

"Effective." She agreed sarcastically.

"So anyway, how are you?" Rachel greeted properly, pulling her jacket off and hanging it on a peg, "And how are you, Mr Baxter?" She knelt down in front of Barney, who lifted his head to greet her, panting excitedly. "Woah there, easy on the breathing Mr B." Rachel winced, pulling back and standing to join the blonde in the kitchen.

"Yeah I'm okay. Coffee?" She held up a cup and the brunette nodded, "How are you?"

"Not bad. Pretty good, actually. You?"

"Ugh. I'd be fine if Santana hadn't appeared in my kitchen at 8am this morning looking for breakfast." She chuckled, rolling her eyes.

"What?" Rachel frowned, "How did she get in?"

"She has a spare key like you do. For emergencies." Quinn rolled her eyes, "Sadly she doesn't have the comprehension of the word 'emergency' like you do."

"Wow." Rachel looked around the room thoughtfully, "How funny is it that this morning Santana broke into your apartment, and then like…an hour later, you locked yourself out?" She shook her head incredulously, and Quinn spun on her heel to stare at her evenly.

"Hilarious." She replied, without a trace of humour.

"Sorry." Rachel chuckled. "So what have you been working on recently?" She accepted a cup of coffee from the blonde before strolling across to the desk in the corner.

"Just the usual." Quinn shrugged, "It's a custom-build for some rich guy commissioning a safety deposit box."

"Like for in a bank?" Rachel's nose wrinkled in confusion.

"No, like he's probably cut a hole in his wall at home, probably somewhere creative like behind a painting," She rolled her eyes, "This guy I know called Puck goes and measures where the actual safe will go. He sends me the details and all I have to do is build the lock, mail it to the address, and Puck will fit it all and test it."

"Cool." Rachel nodded, impressed, "It looks complicated."

"It isn't when you know what all the parts are." She shrugged.

"Really?" The brunette raised a sceptical eyebrow.

"Okay, so maybe it's still a little bit complex. But otherwise it wouldn't work, and I would make no money. And I'd be homeless." She paused thoughtfully, "Or living with your dads."

"Well I'm sure they'd love to have you. But could you stand all the animals?" Her eyes widened as her mouth twisted in a grimace and Quinn shook her head.

"No way. One awkward, troublesome dog is enough for me." She chuckled, "Besides, Freja would scratch my eyes right out."

"Oh God, yeah. That cat is so mean, I swear there's something wrong with her." Rachel shuddered as she pictured the malicious Siamese that her father loved so much.

Quinn nodded vehemently, rolling her eyes, "So anyway, what do you want to do today?" She wandered through to the living room where Barney was sprawled across the rug, Rachel following closely behind.

The brunette shrugged, taking a place on the sofa and propping her ankles up on the coffee table, "I don't know. The weather isn't that great, and I don't feel like taking our chances with the rain."

"Good point. What time are we going to your dads?" The blonde frowned, and Rachel reached for the remote control.

"Umm…" She hummed, her attention wandering as she flicked through channels, "I think they said 5:30. Is that okay?"

"Yeah, I'll have to feed Barney before we go, though." She replied absent-mindedly, scanning the options on the screen as she curled her legs under her.

"Well they'll be feeding all the others so they won't mind if we're a little late. We'll be eating a little later anyway, as always." She shrugged, pausing on a page to deliberate between programmes.

"Yeah, as long as it's not too late. I want to finish all that tomorrow," She gestured to the work bench in the corner, "So I need an early night."

"Okay, I promise we won't stay late." Rachel smiled, "America's Next Top Model or My Super Sweet Sixteen?"

"Um…" Quinn twisted her mouth as she mulled it over, "I'm assuming we're having a TV day then?" She chuckled, "America's Next Top Model. It's all of the new series re-capped all day, we can have a marathon."

"Awesome." Rachel giggled, "You wanna go for breakfast at lunchtime?" She raised her eyebrows and Quinn turned her head slowly to meet the brunette's gaze.

"You are a genius." She nodded, "Okay so if we go to Rapps, on the corner, then we can watch the first episode, go for lunch and come back to watch the rest on the plus one channel. Then we won't even miss any."

"Yes!" Rachel slapped the blonde's thigh excitedly, "Oh, good thinking!" She grinned, oblivious to Quinn rubbing her leg, grimacing in pain.

-oOo-

"Okay, are we good to go? Apart from him." Quinn gestured to Barney, who was munching happily in his food bowl, before raising her eyebrows at Rachel, who nodded confidently.

"Yeah, I've already picked up your key so you can't forget it." The brunette smiled kindly, and Quinn ducked her head bashfully.

"Thank you." She chuckled, "Okay, I'm not going to dinner in sweatpants, so I'll just run up and change."

She sprinted off up the stairs, and Rachel watched her go with a small frown.

"How do you get up those stairs so fast without going dizzy? Or without falling back down?" She called, and heard Quinn's light laughter from the balcony above her.

"I have to spot." Quinn joked, "Aren't you the dancer here?"

The brunette rolled her eyes, perching on the back of the sofa as she gazed around at the duplex apartment, "I love your apartment. It's so cool and artsy, but still very you."

Quinn's body appeared over the low wall that ran the length of the balcony. "What do you mean, 'It's so cool, but still very you.'" She held up air quotes as she spoke, narrowing her eyes, "Are you saying I'm not cool?"

Rachel rolled her eyes as Quinn disappeared for a moment, reappearing with a jacket in her hand to jog down the iron staircase. "My lips are sealed." Rachel smiled sweetly, "I may be bendy, but I don't wish to put my foot in my mouth any more than I already have."

She gestured to allow Quinn past, and the blonde glared playfully at Rachel as she craned up to retrieve Barney's lead once again. She clipped it swiftly onto his collar before leading the trio out of her apartment.

"So what's your dad making tonight?" The blonde asked once they had started the short walk to Rachel's fathers' house.

"I think he said mushroom and potato curry?" Rachel's face twisted with uncertainty, "I think."

"Awh man." Quinn sighed, "No falafel burgers?"

"I don't think so." The brunette shrugged, "Sorry. I'll make them for you this week."

Quinn giggled happily to herself, "Yey!" She clapped her hands excitably, pausing as Barney stopped to cock his leg against a low wall. "So, is there anything I have to avoid saying tonight?" She raised her eyebrows at Rachel, who paused for a moment.

"I don't think so. I'd prefer it if you didn't tell them about that date I went on last week, though. But nothing serious." She shook her head. Occasionally Rachel made Quinn swear to withhold certain details from her fathers. Never anything serious, a bad audition here, an embarrassing date there.

Hiram and Leroy had a tendency to worry too much, and Rachel had a tendency to tell little white lies to curb the over-bearing nervousness. It wasn't that they suffocated her – she didn't have any deep-rooted issues because of it or anything. And she didn't _like_ to be dishonest, she just found that whenever she told them about auditions she didn't get, guys who stood her up or an occasional lack of funds, they smothered her with questions that made her head hurt. She knew it was only because they cared so much, but sometimes it was nicer to live an easy life.

"Which date?" Quinn frowned, "With that Jerry guy?"

"Yeah."

"Another one stood you up?" The blonde guessed, but Rachel shook her head.

"No, this one _did _show up…"She paused with a small sigh, "But maybe it would have been better if he hadn't." She rolled her eyes as Quinn quirked her eyebrows questioningly, urging her on. "He spent the whole night talking about himself, he literally did not ask me _one _question. I mean, I know I can be a little self-obsessed, but he just kept talking about his job and telling the same stories _over _and _over_, he didn't even have an _interesting_ job!" She shook her head exasperatedly and the blonde's mouth twisted sympathetically. "I mean, I try to be completely non-judgemental, as I would wish to be treated by others, but sometimes men are just so insufferable! At least, the ones that I seem to come into contact with are."

"Well that sucks. You deserve better dates than that. I'm sorry."

"It's okay." Rachel shrugged, "There's always next time."

"I don't understand how you keep going on so many dates when they all go so horribly wrong." The blonde grimaced.

"Well, if I give up on finding my soulmate then I don't have any chance of finding them, do I?" Rachel replied simply.

"I suppose." Quinn frowned quizzically, "But what is it that people say about 'once you stop looking for someone, _they_ find _you_' or something?" She shrugged, and Rachel raised an eyebrow self-consciously.

"I feel I would rather take a pro-active approach to the situation." They fell silent for a moment, until Rachel took a breath, "So what about you? _Still _no love interest?"

The blonde rolled her eyes, "Actually, since I saw you three days ago I've embarked on an illicit affair with the super, had a one night stand with the busker on the corner of my street and attempted to woo your fathers' doorman." She replied sarcastically, and Rachel sighed. "Of course not, don't be ridiculous, Rach."

"You need to get out there!" Rachel nagged, "I've told you. You are _such_ a catch; you're smart, funny, creative, cute. There is no need for you to be alone."

"I'm not alone!" She defended, "I have my little man, here, don't I?"

The other girl rolled her eyes, "As much as I love Barney – and I do – I just don't think he's a substitute for a human companion." She shrugged as they turned onto the Berry men's street.

"But I don't _want _a human companion. I'm happy how I am. I'm happy alone." She shrugged, "I'll find someone when I want someone. If ever."

Rachel shook her head, "I don't believe you. If you don't want to find someone, why are you so gooey over romantic comedies?" She jabbed a finger at the blonde, who scoffed.

"I just like the storylines. It's sweet. Boy meets girl, et cetera."

"Mmm-hmm." Rachel nodded, looking doubtful, "Whatever, I've seen the way you look when you watch the big reunion scenes at the end of films. I've seen you cry over happy endings in books. I know that you _always _play love songs when you're playing your guitar. I know you better than you think I do."

Quinn pushed open the door to Rachel's fathers' apartment building, the small brunette following after her.

"So why are you so afraid of dating?" Rachel challenged, pressing the button for the elevator as Quinn rolled her eyes.

"I'm not afraid of dating!" Quinn scowled, "I just don't want to."

"So you don't _ever _feel alone? You never want to feel somebody's arms around you? You never want a shoulder to cry on? Someone to always have your back? To sit with you when you wake up from a nightmare?" Rachel raised an eyebrow as the elevator sped up the levels.

"Not really. If I need a shoulder to cry on I have you. Santana always has my back. Barney is always there if I have a nightmare, I just have to carry him up the stairs." She shrugged as the doors slid open, "And I'm fine with it. I'm perfectly fine."

Rachel stepped out into the hall, quickly turning on her heel to face Quinn, "Okay. So you're fine. Good for you. But I notice you didn't say you're _happy _with it? Just a thought." She smiled sweetly, turning to lead the way to her fathers' apartment and wrapping sharply on the door.

Moments later it swung open and Rachel dived into the arms of her father with a loud squeal. Leroy stood with a wide grin, releasing Rachel to pull Quinn into a crushing hug. He ushered the girls into the apartment, where a dinner table was already set up.

"Hey girls! Come on through, make yourselves at home!" He welcomed them in and Quinn carefully stepped across the hall, struggling to avoid the array of different animals crowding to join them in the hallway.

Along with Barney, she picked out Freja and Coco, the two Siamese cats, along with Toby the Staffordshire Bull Terrier, Trixie the Daschund, Oscar the Cocker Spaniel and a tiny tabby cat named Spooky. The various animals were usually accidentally sourced. Spooky was a stray they had found in the alley behind their apartment. They began leaving food for her and then one day they brought her back into the apartment and she had never left since. They agreed to take Toby home when a friend was going to take him to a shelter where he would be put down. Trixie didn't even belong to them, she was Rachel's mom's dog but they often looked after her for Shelby. Rachel didn't have that much contact with her mom, but Leroy and Hiram were on good terms with her and the girls saw her in passing sometimes.

"Hi, Mr Berry!" Quinn shouted over the din as the various animals ran around her feet.

Hiram appeared from the kitchen, shushing the various animals and crouching down to pick up one of the two Siamese cats, "Hey, Quinnie!" He grinned, "How are ya?"

"I'm great, thank you."

"Daddy," Rachel interrupted, "Dad, don't you think Quinn should be dating?"

"Rachel!" Quinn stared at her incredulously. Her heart sank as she realised that they were going to have to talk about it. She knew she should have stayed at home when there were no falafel burgers.

"Um…" Leroy frowned, "I'm not sure. I mean, do you _want _to be dating, Quinn?"

"Of course she should be!" Hiram agreed enthusiastically and she grimaced, "You need to get out there, Quinnie! Even if you think you don't, you cannot understand the joy of having somebody until you do. It's like suddenly your world changes." He gazed fondly at Leroy as he spoke, scratching the cat's ears as he continued, "It's like you're entire life, you've only really been half a person, and then you meet the one who just…makes you whole." He took a deep breath, sighing contentedly, "Just like me and Freja." He added, and Leroy groaned, rolling his eyes.

"Should have seen that one coming!" He snorted as Hiram chuckled. Rachel shook her head and Quinn rolled my eyes, but he waved an arm to gain their attention once more.

"No, of course I'm joking!" He extended an arm to wrap around Leroy's shoulders, kissing him gently on the cheek, "You know you're my world." He grinned at the other man, who shook his head fondly.

Quinn watched them, doe-eyed as they smiled, playfully arguing over who loved who more. Rachel raised an eyebrow as she gazed from her fathers to the expression on her best friend's face, and she shifted her weight to nudge Quinn with her elbow. "See? Tell me you don't want that?" She raised her eyebrows expectantly, and the blonde glanced down at Barney before replying.

The retriever was rolling around with Leroy's cocker spaniel, Oscar, whilst Coco, the other Siamese, hissed near-by. Quinn sighed heavily, "I suppose it would be nice." She shrugged, "But can't I just wait for love to find me in its own sweet time?"

"Of course you can!" Leroy waved his hand dismissively, and she gestured to him to prove her point "You're young, there's no rush."

Hiram scoffed, turning and leading the way into the kitchen, "No, you can't just sit back and watch life pass you by, Quinnie!"

She sighed as she followed the line of Berrys into the kitchen, rolling her eyes behind Rachel's back as she wondered, begrudgingly, why this was the chosen topic of conversation.

"I'm not letting life pass me by!" She defended, but Rachel turned on her heel to raise a sceptical eyebrow at the blonde as Hiram returned to the cooking and Leroy began pouring drinks.

"Quinn, you barely leave your apartment most days." She pointed out, her tone much less venomous than her words.

"Because that's where I work!" Quinn argued, "It's not like I never leave my apartment! I make plans!" Leroy handed out glasses of wine and Quinn immediately took a large swig from hers, taking a seat at the breakfast bar beside Rachel.

"Yeah, with me or Santana." The brunette countered, "We don't count; we're your best friends."

Quinn scowled, disgruntled as Rachel echoed Santana's words. "Why is everyone so against me spending time with my friends instead of being obsessed with romance?"

"I'm not, for the record." Leroy interjected, and she chuckled, "It's these two steam-rollers." He sent Quinn a knowing look and gave her a quick wink.

"I'm not against you spending time with your friends." Rachel frowned, "I'm just saying maybe you'd enjoy dating if you actually put yourself out there. I've known you since college and I have _never _known you to have a boyfriend." Quinn shifted uncomfortably. "I know that you love love, so why not open yourself up to it?" Hiram nodded his agreement, and the blonde sighed heavily. Barney had taken up a space at her feet, curled up on the floor by her chair. She gazed down at him, half-wishing they were laid on the sofa with a monstrous bowl of popcorn and a dog treat instead of being bullied in Hiram and Leroy's kitchen.

She turned away from her faithful companion, gazing from Rachel's earnest face to Hiram's persuasive grin and Leroy's small, resigned smile. She sighed again before taking a deep breath, "Fine." She admitted reluctantly, and Rachel whooped, fist-pumping in the air as Hiram cheered. Leroy chuckled and Quinn rolled her eyes dramatically, "Fine, I'll try dating. But I'm not making any promises and I'm not even looking for anyone in particular. This isn't a mission to set me up, I'm just saying that I'll try it."

"Yes!" Rachel grinned excitedly, "I have the perfect guy for you."


	2. Chapter 2

**If we never take the first step, we cannot go too far. Let's get a move on, jump in – **_**High Places, Jump In**_

Quinn groaned as she rolled over onto her back, blinking her eyes open to stare up at the ceiling as the alarm blared through the room. She could hear Barney at the bottom of the stairs, whining for her attention, or more likely for her to turn the alarm off, and sighed. She lifted her head off the pillow to squint across at the alarm clock in the morning light, as it flashed 9:00 back at her. Reaching out, she slammed her palm down on the top and the noise ceased. She yawned and settled back on the pillow with a sigh, psyching herself up to get out of bed.

Once she had eventually dragged herself from under the covers, she called down to silence Barney who quickly resumed his position on the couch. She grabbed a pair of baggy jeans off the floor, giving them a sniff before retrieving an old t-shirt from the wardrobe, pulling them on and heading straight down the spiral staircase. After turning into the kitchen, she deposited two slices of bread in the toaster and made her way across to her desk, eager to begin working. She sighed in preparation as she surveyed the various equipment on the desk.

She hummed to herself absent-mindedly as she reached above her head, flicking on the large light above her and immediately illuminating the wooden surface of the desk. The various metal pieces shone under the light, and Quinn set about using various tools to shape and build the separate parts for the complex lock that laid scattered in pieces across the desk. Barney wandered the apartment as she worked, flitting from his water bowl in the kitchen to lazing on the sofa. Her toast popped up in the kitchen, but remained ignored as Quinn fiddled with springs and washers.

Four hours later and Barney was whining loudly. After shushing him repeatedly, Quinn finally gave in with a heavy sigh, removing herself from her desk and flicking the overhead light off. She stood slowly, stretching out her aching limbs and twisting her cramped muscles. Checking the time, she found she'd worked straight through lunch, a fact that her stomach promptly reminded her of with a loud rumble. Barney was jogging back and forth through the living room, his whining turning into short barks, and Quinn immediately forced her feet into her sneakers and grabbed his lead from the peg. Fastening his collar around his neck, she checked her pockets for her keys and cash, before heading out of the apartment and down onto the street.

As she wandered back to her apartment, after doing a couple of circuits of the park across the street, she picked up a large slice of pizza from a guy with a cart, hurrying along the street in her impatient quest to get back to her work-bench. As she strolled down the street, her mind wandered to how she first met Santana. Their initial meeting had been largely uneventful. They attended High school together; Santana was Head Cheerleader and Quinn sat next to her in science and was forced to do her homework. They didn't even speak until their junior year, and Santana didn't even know Quinn's name. Sitting beside her and doing her homework eventually grew into Quinn tutoring Santana, which grew into a firm, if slightly sheltered, friendship. Neither of them had particularly wanted the rest of the student body knowing they were friends, for the sake of Santana's reputation, and Russel Fabray's dictator-like rules.

If Quinn's parents had known she was spending time with the head cheerleader, whose name and reputation preceded her, they would have forbid the whole thing. They were concerned with nothing but Quinn's grades and dedication to school work. There were no boyfriends. There were barely even friends; only those who her father approved of due to their fathers' success and their high grades. She had attempted to make friends with a boy named Danny in her first year of high school, but her father soon put a stop to it when he found out that Danny was more creative and artsy, rather than academically successful. Quinn still felt guilty.

And so her friendship with Santana had blossomed quietly. She realised early on that any mention of Santana to her parents would have killed the friendship stone dead, and so their lips were sealed. They would barely acknowledge each other at school; giving the occasional nod as they passed in the hallway and only talking in hushed tones during science classes. The tutoring was Santana's idea, a way of legitimately seeing each other outside of school, instead of swapping daily texts and phone calls when Quinn's parents weren't around.

As graduation was looming, Santana had announced that she was skipping college and moving straight to the Big Apple, where her aunt already owned an established ballet school. Quinn's parents pushed her to attend Harvard, but the girl had already made her mind up that she was following Santana to New York. Her father swore to discontinue his money and support if she disobeyed him, sure that she could never survive on her own. Quinn called his bluff, announcing that she would be living with Santana and making her own way in life.

She hadn't spoken to her parents since.

Meeting Rachel last year was much more enjoyable than being forced into completing someone else's homework.

-o-

The rain bounced around her feet as Quinn rushed under the canopy of the bus stop, breathing a sigh of relief as she took refuge from the torrential rain. She shook off her umbrella, green with black polka-dots, and shook her head, tiny splashes of rain flicking off the ends in all directions. Inspecting her umbrella with a deep-set frown, she growled under her breath as the problem became apparent. There was a large rip through the waterproof material, and she closed it with a sigh.

She peered out at the overcast clouds, resisting the urge to let the weather force her into misery, as a small, squealing brunette joined her under the shelter. She had the collar of her coat pulled up around her neck, and was groaning dramatically as the rain soaked her hair. Quinn eyed up the emotional girl, taking a subtle step away from her as the brunette stamped one foot on the ground. "Don't you just hate this weather?" The girl rounded on Quinn angrily, and the blonde opened her mouth cluelessly.

"Um…yeah, it's awful." Quinn agreed non-committedly.

"Sorry, I know it's unusual to talk to a stranger in the big city. I've grown up here my entire life with my two dads, they live just outside of the city. It's a little strange living apart from them actually, but as a leaving gift they bought me a rape alarm so I'm always safe." She grinned cheekily and Quinn chuckled politely.

"That's…nice." She nodded awkwardly as the brunette beside her sighed.

"Would you like a cupcake?" Quinn watched, wide-eyed in bewilderment, as the girl searched around in her bag, pulling out a sealed plastic box. She prised the lid off and offered it to Quinn, who peered inside suspiciously at the various cupcakes.

"Umm…no I'm good thanks." She shook her head with a small frown, and the brunette tilted her head in disappointment.

"Really? They're good. And I promise there's no roofies in them or anything. Look." She took one of the cakes and took a huge bite, and Quinn couldn't resist chuckling at the girl's stuffed cheeks.

"How do I know you haven't roofied allthe other ones?" Quinn challenged, quirking an eyebrow, and the girl's brow furrowed.

"I suppose you don't. You'd have to trust me." She shrugged, and Quinn glanced around at the dismal weather before taking a deep breath. "Although if it helps, I'm straight, so I have _no _idea what I would _do _with a roofied girl. Although, if I was going to roofie a girl for those reasons, you'd be the perfect candidate. You're very pretty." She rambled, and Quinn nodded slowly.

"Ah shame, roofies might have made this day better." Quinn rolled her eyes, reaching out and taking one of the cupcakes. She pulled a piece off the side and popped it into her mouth, nodding enthusiastically, "Okay, you were right. These _are _good." She glanced over at the brunette, who was grinning widely, eager to please.

"Good. I'm glad you like it. It's vegan." She announced proudly, and Quinn stopped chewing to raise an eyebrow at the girl.

"Really?" She gazed down suspiciously at the cupcake in her hand.

"Yes, really. And don't look at it like that! It's not poisoned." She giggled, and Quinn narrowed her eyes playfully.

"I can't believe you tricked me into eating your vegan food! Trickery!" She jabbed a finger in the girl's direction.

"Sorry. It's my secret ploy to save the animals, one bus queue girl at a time." She joked, "I'm hell-bent on world domination."

"Well, I can't say I wouldn't recommend them to people." Quinn shrugged, taking another bite, "Thank you. I feel like a cupcake was exactly what I needed."

"Good." The brunette grinned proudly, "You looked like you needed one." As Quinn nodded her thanks, the crowded bus pulled up beside them.

They filed on through the doors and Quinn scanned the bus, finding a blank seat and taking her place.

"Do you mind if I sit here?" The brunette pointed to the chair beside her, "Sorry, but there's nowhere else to sit."

"Um, no. That's no problem." Quinn shook her head, a little taken aback at the idea of spending her whole bus journey with this tiny person who was bursting with such personality.

They talked the entire way through the city, ending in Rachel demanding Quinn's last name so they could keep in touch through facebook. Quinn willingly obliged after what turned out to be a wholly entertaining journey, and the girls had been firm friends ever since.

-o-

Returning to her building, she rushed up the stairs after an excitable Barney, depositing the greasy paper from her pizza in the trash as she passed, immediately taking up her position at the desk once again. Flicking the light back on, she retrieved a pair of magnifying goggles from her top drawer and continued her tinkering. A loud buzzing erupted from her pocket and Quinn sighed irritably, putting down her tools and removing her goggles to wrestle her phone from her jeans pocket.

Frowning at the screen, she saw Rachel's name flashing up, and sat back in her chair to relax before hitting the answer button.

"Hello?" She greeted brightly, and she could hear Rachel's grin at the other end of the phone.

"Okay, I'm sorry if you're working but I had to call you!" She sounded excited, and the blonde sat forward in her chair as Barney bounded off the sofa at the sound of the girl's voice on the phone.

"It's okay, I'm taking a break. What is it?"

"Well..." the girl began, dragging the word out, "Hang on, _you_ were taking a _break_?" Her tone changed and Quinn rolled her eyes.

"Okay, no I wasn't. But I'm taking one now that you've called. Consider yourself flattered." She snorted and Rachel shrugged.

"I do. So, there's two things actually. Firstly, I had an audition this morning-"

"What for?" Quinn interjected.

"Anything Goes. It's an Off-Broadway –_ obviously_. It's only got a run of three months at the moment but could be extended. And I'm only in the chorus, but you never know!" She giggled happily as Quinn gasped at each new piece of news.

"That's awesome, Rach! And you never know, everybody has to start somewhere!" She shrugged, grinning wildly, "Today Off-Broadway chorus, next stop you'll be taking down Patti LuPone!"

"I know right? I'm so excited, rehearsals start in three days!" She squealed and Quinn winced at the noise, chuckling quietly.

"This is awesome, we'll have to do something to celebrate soon. So what was the other thing?"

"Well, actually…while I was at the audition, I met this _really _nice guy." The brunette began.

_Here we go again. That reminds me, I'm out of vegan ice cream and Rachel's body weight in vegan chocolate._

She had known it wouldn't be long before Rachel found another guy to fall hopelessly in love with and be hopelessly heart-broken by.

"Yeah, he's very tall, good looking in a boy-next-door kind of way, you know. So what do you think?" Rachel continued. She could hear the girl's excitement, and resisted the urge to sigh.

"I think just be careful, Rach. It hasn't been that long since you were heart-broken last time. Just be careful." She warned kindly, but Rachel was humming in confusion.

"Um, what are you talking about?" The brunette asked, and Quinn's eyes narrowed suspiciously.

"What are _you_ talking about?" She repeated with a frown.

"_I'm_ talking about how I've got you a date with a really nice guy, if you should wish to accept it." The girl announced triumphantly, and Quinn removed the phone from her ear, pressing it to her chest to muffle the noise as she groaned loudly, raising her eyes skywards. She stood and crossed to the sofa, placing herself close beside Barney and burying her face in the fur of his back.

"_Quinn?...Quinn!" _She could hear Rachel calling her from the other end of the line, and lifted the phone to her ear once again, steeling herself with a deep breath.

"Why, Rach?" She groaned, and Rachel sighed impatiently.

"Because you agreed that you would get out there more! Please, just this one date. Just for me."

_Oh no._

"What's his name?" She asked begrudgingly as dread settled in her chest like a two-ton weight.

"Finn." The girl replied simply, and Quinn sighed heavily.

"And why should I go out with him?" She rolled her eyes and practically _heard _Rachel following suit.

"Because he seemed really nice, a little self-conscious but very sweet. He's tall, dark, fairly handsome. Kind of a jock-type, you know?"

"Wow. Because jocks are _exactly_ what I go for." Quinn replied sarcastically, "Can he even string a sentence together?"

"Of course he can! Stop being so judgemental and presumptuous, Miss Fabray." The brunette scolded, and Quinn twisted her mouth begrudgingly.

"I don't know, Rach. I'll think about it but I just…I don't really know if I like the idea of a blind date with some random guy that you've spoken to for like, five minutes. He could be a murderer!" She suggested wildly, and Rachel bit back a dismissive comeback.

"Okay..." She took a deep breath, remaining calm, "Well I have his number, so I can give it to you whenever you want, or I can set up a date whenever you want. Take some time to think about it."

"Yeah. I will. Thanks, Rach." Quinn replied despondently before saying her goodbyes and hanging up. She sighed heavily, dropping the phone onto the sofa beside her and shifting over, pulling Barney's head onto her lap.

She scratched his ears absent-mindedly as she mulled over the idea. "What do you think Barnster?" Barney tilted his head, raising his eyebrows to gaze at her. "I know, right? But maybe Rachel's right. Maybe I _do_ need to get out there? My last boyfriend was over ten years ago, and I hardly think a 12-year-old Jimmy Prior counts as a boyfriend. Even in high school Santana said it didn't count because we never kissed." She sighed solemnly, leaning back on the sofa to stare around at her apartment. "Do you think I'm happy, Barn Door? Really happy, like Mr and Mr Berry?" Barney shifted his head on her lap so he was facing away from her, "Yeah, me neither I suppose. Maybe I should call Santana?"

Barney gave a small squeak, lifting his head to look at her once again, "Yeah you're right. She'd be no help at all, she's been telling me to get laid for years. Ugh!" She twisted, burying her face in Barney's fur once again.

It was hopeless. She'd been single for far too long now. Everyone on those make-over lifestyle shows said it was harder to start dating again the longer you left it. Although the word _again _was entirely redundant. But she supposed if she didn't start now, she'd probably grow old and senile. Just her and Barney. Alone forever. And although she loved him, she wouldn't trust him not to eat her if she died in her apartment and was never found. Maybe that was slightly dramatic, Santana or Rachel would definitely check up on her if she did die. Although, surely Santana would settle down_ eventually_, even if she _was _currently sleeping her way through the tri-state area. And Rachel had been on a quest for love since she could recite the alphabet, so surely she'd find someone eventually.

"Maybe its time to bite the bullet…accept the inevitable." She wondered aloud, and Barney groaned on her leg. "Oh screw it, I'm calling Santana." Barney promptly lifted his head off her knee, staring blankly at her. "Yes, I know she'll be no help, don't look at me like that! I just need to bounce ideas off someone who is completely un-biased."

She reached out for her phone with a sigh, scrolling down to find Santana's number.

"What up, Q-tip?" Santana answered in a whisper. Quinn frowned.

"Hey, are you busy?" She asked, sincerely hoping the answer would be no.

"Umm…not _really_." The girl replied in a low voice, "Just give me one second though."

Quinn heard the noise of squeaking shoes, and a door being shut quietly in the background.

"What are you doing?" She asked suspiciously.

"Um, nothing?" Santana replied at a normal volume.

"Did you just sneak out of someone's house?" Quinn demanded disapprovingly.

"Um, maybe?" She replied, sounding guilty before giggling to herself, "She's in the shower, I didn't leave a number. In fact, she thinks my name is Casey. I'm untraceable." She rattled off proudly, and the blonde rolled her eyes.

"You're ridiculous."

"Did you want something, Martha Stewart, or did you just call to judge me?" Santana snapped, and Quinn sighed.

"Sorry." She took a deep breath, "Okay, Rachel wants to set me up with this guy she met. She's been saying that I need to start dating and I should get out there more."

Santana immediately burst out into loud laughter, and Quinn sighed heavily, rolling her eyes.

"Well, she's sort of right." The girl eventually composed herself, "Although I wouldn't say you need to start _dating_, you _do _need to get laid."

"I knew you'd say that. But that's not the point." She bit her lip thoughtfully as she attempted to find the words, "It's just that, I don't know, I've never really done the whole dating thing. I don't know how to talk to guys."

"That's because you don't want to talk to guys. You big gay." Santana replied simply, and Quinn resisted the urge to growl.

"I'm serious."

"Well, Fabgay," Santana said kindly, "I think you should definitely get out there. As much as I hate it, I agree with Barbra Strei-_sad_. If you don't date then you're going to die alone, and if we're thirty and you're _still _a virgin, it will seriously kill my buzz."

"_Santana!_" Quinn scolded indignantly.

"Sorry, I know you don't like it when we talk openly about your issues." The brunette replied sarcastically, "But either way you need to date. It's sad, Q. You have no one but Berry and Barney for company, and only me to light up your life. It's sad."

"Thanks, San." She deadpanned, "I knew you'd just be so much help."

"You're welcome." The girl replied brightly, ignorant to Quinn's sarcasm. "Okay so you're going to be dating. Woo!" She screamed down the phone, and Quinn groaned mentally, "This means we need to do something with your hair. And your clothes. And maybe your personality, too. But firstly, your hair." She added in a serious tone, and the Quinn frowned, pulling a few strands between her thumb and forefinger, staring down at them in confusion.

"What's wrong with my hair?"

"Well…nothing, I _suppose_." Santana shrugged, "It's just that, you've been wearing it long and limp for years now, and we should spruce you up if you want to get a guy. And eventually a girl."

"A _guy_." Quinn insisted firmly, and Santana quirked a sceptical eyebrow.

"Sure. So I'm going to hang up, then I'll call my guy. What are you doing today?"

"I'm working. What guy?" She frowned.

"My hair guy. Sack off the work today, Q. I'll make you an appointment for today if possible, and then I'm coming over. You call this dude, whoever he is, and make a date."

"Santana, I'm not sure about this." Quinn groaned, but was swiftly cut off by the brunette.

"No. Stop thinking about it. It'll be fine. I'll see you in an hour." She hung up before Quinn could reply, leaving the blonde staring down at her phone with an impending sense of dread.

"Okay. Maybe that _was_ a bad idea." She bit her lip as Barney gave her one last I-told-you-so look before climbing off the sofa and wandering away from her. "Awesome."

-oOo-

"Hey! S'up Queer Fabray?" Santana called as she let herself into the apartment. Quinn gawped at her from her desk.

"Do you just carry my spare key around with you everywhere you go?" She asked incredulously, and Santana shrugged as she dropped her bag on the floor near the front door.

"Pretty much. It's easier than waiting around for you to haul your ass over here and let me in. What are you doing?" She strode over to where Quinn was sat, "More boring work stuff?"

"Yup." The blonde reached up to flick the overhead light off, spinning in her chair to face Santana, "Hi."

"Hi. So my guy is coming over in half an hour, he's called Kurt and he is going to make you look socially presentable." Quinn scowled as Santana smiled sweetly, "Until then, what have you got to drink?"

"Santana, are you sure about this? I don't know." She shook her head, "Plus, it's three in the afternoon!" She exclaimed, but the brunette shrugged as she wandered in the direction of the kitchen.

"So?" She called over her shoulder, "I have no plans for the night, do you?"

Quinn paused, silent for a moment. "No." She replied in a small voice, "I guess not."

"What?" Santana shouted from the kitchen, and Quinn took a deep breath, preparing herself for the rest of the day before pushing herself off her chair and following the brunette to the kitchen.

"Nothing, and I have no idea what drinks I have." She shrugged as Santana sighed, searching through the cupboards.

"Absolutely nothing, that's what drinks you have." She straightened up, rolling her eyes. "God, how do you manage _being you_ with no alcohol?" Quinn rolled her eyes at the rhetorical question, "Okay, I'm going to the store for drinks and snacks. I trust the extensive movie collection that comes with a nerdy single girl so I figure you have that covered. You might want to wash your hair before Kurt arrives." Santana turned on her heel as Quinn stood dumbstruck in the kitchen, pausing at the door to usher the blonde along before turning her back and swiftly exiting the apartment.

She arrived back a little while later with two bottles of wine and a six pack of beer, depositing the goods in the fridge and making herself comfortable on the sofa whilst Quinn finished showering.

"Hey Boo." She prodded Barney with her toe as he lay stretched out on the floor, "How's it going?" She lowered her voice comically, "'Not bad thanks, how's tricks?' I'm good thanks, just making your mom look a little less plain."

"I am not plain!" Quinn scolded as she twisted down the stairs. Santana coughed as her cheeks flushed, embarrassed to be caught talking to, and impersonating, the dog. Truthfully, Quinn had caught her doing it many times and refrained from saying anything.

"Come on, Q. You're a little plain." She argued, and the blonde pouted as she strolled over to the sofa, perching on the arm with her feet on the cushion.

"I am not. How am I?"

"Your hair. Your clothes. Your face." Santana rattled off, and the blonde pouted.

"What's wrong with them? I like my hair style."

"You _have_ no hair style." Santana countered, and Quinn sighed.

"You don't need to be cruel about it."

"I'm not being cruel, Q. It's tough love." She shrugged, "I'm just saying, you're a gorgeous girl…and you're not making the best of it. So we're going to get you a haircut, buy you some new…" She paused thoughtfully, peering at Quinn's face, "Some make-up. And new clothes. Can you afford all that?"

"You know I can." Quinn's brow furrowed in confusion.

"Fancy buying_ me_ some new clothes while you're at it?" Santana asked cheekily, and the blonde chuckled.

"Why? I thought people paid highly for your kind of services?" She deadpanned, and the brunette smiled sarcastically.

"Ha ha." She opened her mouth to counter, but a buzz at the door interrupted her, "That'll be Kurt. Go let him in."

She jerked a thumb over her shoulder and Quinn sighed, dragging herself off the sofa and over to the intercom to buzz up the hairdresser. She wondered briefly how it was that Santana could walk into any room and command the attention of everyone in it. Quinn was familiar with Santana's demands and orders, and knew it was easier to comply than to resist. Less effort. Though that didn't make her feel any better about being bossed around in her own apartment. Kurt appeared moments later, carrying two large bags and sashaying his way into the apartment.

"Hey, Santana!" He abandoned his bags on the floor before jogging across to Santana, taking tiny steps, and making a big show of greeting her. They kissed each other's cheeks multiple times, and Quinn stood awkwardly as they showered each other with compliments. "And you must be Quinn." He rounded on her, his expression serious as his eyes scanned her hair. He circled her like a vulture, occasionally lifting strands and moving her hair around, muttering under his breath. He eventually stopped walking to stand straight in front of her, side-eying Santana and finishing in a low voice, "You were right."

"What do you mean?" Quinn frowned.

"He means I was right; you_ are _plain and you _do_ need professional help."

"That's a little rich." The blonde mumbled, quirking an eyebrow.

"I heard that. Kurt, sit her down. I'm getting wine." Santana left the room and Kurt began setting up his bags on Quinn's small dining table as she pulled a chair out and took a seat. She reappeared with two full glasses a moment later, placing one in front of Quinn and spinning the battered arm chair around to face the others, her ankles crossed on the sofa to steady her.

"Okay, Quinn. How do you feel?" Kurt leaned on the dining table, staring evenly at the blonde, who glanced away awkwardly before shrugging.

"Um…I don't know. Okay, I guess?" She raised an eyebrow and Kurt tutted, rolling his eyes.

"Well, you certainly don't feel like a goddess, do you?" He sighed, "Do you even care what I do to your hair?" He raised an eyebrow, glaring accusingly at Quinn, who frowned.

"Yes I do. Please don't make me look stupid. I don't want it too short. Nothing too drastic." She bit her lip nervously as Kurt spun on his heel to raise his eyebrows at Santana, who waved a hand in the air dismissively.

"Ignore her. She knows nothing. Do whatever you want." She took a large sip of her wine, and Quinn took a deep breath before following suit.

He sprayed her hair to dampen it before setting about snipping the ends. Quinn sat silently, forcing herself to not acknowledge how much of her hair was landing on the floor.

"You can breathe out, you know, Q." Santana remarked as the blonde bit her lip, "Pretty sure you've been holding your breath for around twenty minutes." She rolled her eyes and Quinn breathed out slowly.

"Why are you so worried, sweetie?" Kurt asked kindly, bobbing down so his eyes were level with Quinn's, surveying her bangs. "I promise I won't butcher you."

"I just, haven't had a change in a while." She replied blandly, and the boy nodded sympathetically.

"Well you're in safe hands. I promise." He stood again, stepping behind her and beginning snipping again, "So what's it in aid of?"

"She's dating! Finally!" Santana called, and the blonde sighed impatiently.

"Ooh, getting back on the market. Exciting!" Kurt giggled, and Quinn resisted the urge to grimace.

"Not really. I'm being forced into it against my will by people who claim to be my friends." She rolled her eyes as Santana snorted.

"Oh please." She turned to Kurt, "She needs to get laid before she ends up old and alone with no one to love her. She has a date with some dude her weird best friend set her up with."

"She's not weird." The blonde interjected, but her protest was ignored.

"Oh, so what's this guy like?" Kurt asked, but Quinn shrugged.

"I don't know. It's a blind date."

"Ugh. God, I've had my fair share of blind dates." He shook his head, his eyes wide at the memories, "They were all awful. Now I've vowed to only date guys that I meet myself." He rolled his eyes, and Quinn stared at Santana, horrified. The brunette waved a hand dismissively, frowning and shaking her head.

"You'll be fine!"

"So how long have you been single?" Kurt asked absent-mindedly, and Quinn's cheeks flushed.

"She's always been single." Santana replied for her, and the blonde had to admit she was slightly grateful.

"What? No way!" Kurt paused his chopping to stare incredulously at Quinn, who nodded self-consciously. "But you're so pretty! Why have you never dated?"

"I don't know. I just never have. It doesn't appeal to me that much." She shrugged, and the boy's jaw dropped open slightly.

"Wow. I've been single for four months and it's _killing _me!" He looked over to Santana for support, but the girl shrugged cluelessly.

"I'm never single." She took another large sip of wine and Quinn rolled her eyes before copying.

She was going to need alcohol to get through the rest of this visit.


	3. Chapter 3

**She's got you high and you don't even know yet. The sun's in the sky, its warming up your bare legs. You can't deny your looking for the sunset –** _**Mumm-Ra, She's Got You High**_

"Oh my God, Quinn! Look at you!" Rachel exclaimed, a huge grin spreading across her face as Quinn opened the door. "Your hair! It looks fantastic!"

"Really?" The blonde twisted her mouth nervously, ruffling her much shorter hair and enjoying feeling the ends swish against her fingertips, whilst Barney bounded up to Rachel, jumping up and placing his front paws on her hips, almost knocking her back with the force.

"Ooph! Hey Barn!" She ruffled the dogs head, applying just enough pressure to remove his paws from her shirt. "And yes! You totally suit it!" The tiny brunette reached out, tugging the ends of Quinn's hair, her jaw dropping with awe, "You look gorgeous." She dropped her hands, standing grinning in front of Quinn for a moment before swallowing hard, taking a deep breath and stepping away, "So what's this in aid of?"

"Santana convinced me to do it." Quinn nodded, taking the bag of snacks from the brunette and crossing to the sofa, emptying its contents onto the coffee table. "Oh rather, forced. I rang her for advice on the whole dating thing." Rachel nodded, urging her to continue, "Much to my dismay, she thought it was a great idea." Quinn rolled her eyes.

"That's because it _is_! And when you find the man of your dreams, you will agree." She prodded the blonde's leg with her index finger, grinning proudly.

"I have the man of my dreams." Quinn argued, bending over to coo at Barney, who panted happily, "But sure, whatever you say. Either way, she told me that if I was going to be dating, I needed to make more effort." She shrugged, "She enlisted some scary gay dude who chopped all my hair off, left a huge mess on my floor and demanded I go blonde. I thought I already _was_ blonde, but apparently I was 'mousy' or in Santana's words 'the colour of forty cats and no friends'."

"Wow." Rachel grimaced, perching on the sofa and patting to her lap for Barney to jump up beside her, "That sounds awful."

Quinn shrugged, "It's just Santana; you get used to her." Rachel raised her eyebrows doubtfully, "Okay, most people _don't_ get used to her, but I've known her for so long that my ears are trained to only hear the important things she says." She paused thoughtfully, "Which is nothing."

Rachel sniggered as Quinn picked up the remote, flicking through the channels and checking the time on her phone.

"Well, either way I think your hair looks awesome. You are going to knock. Finn. Dead." Rachel nudged the blonde with her elbow, and Quinn nodded uncertainly.

"Yeah, okay. So we have like ten minutes before Game of Thrones starts. Tell me about this Finn guy." She took a deep breath, giving Rachel her full attention as the girl narrowed her eyes, biting her lip as she considered her answer.

"Well…I don't know _that_ much about him, really. But he was very sweet, a real gentleman. He opened the door for me, helped me pick up my music sheets when I dropped them and they scattered all over the floor." She rolled her eyes at the memory as Quinn snorted.

"Sounds like a scene from a bad high school rom-com."

"You love bad high school rom-coms." Rachel pointed out, and Quinn sighed wistfully.

"I totally do. So what does he look like?" She shrugged and the brunette took a deep breath.

"He's very tall. _Very_ tall. But you know, that's often a good thing. If you know what I mean." She side-eyed Quinn and gave her a quick wink as the blonde grimaced, "So yeah. Very broad. Short, dark hair. Kind of cute. I wish I'd taken a picture for you. But he was totally up for the idea of a blind date, so why don't I call him for you?"

Quinn sighed heavily. "Fine. Go ahead. I'm free most nights." She admitted begrudgingly, and Rachel immediately squealed and began rummaging through her bag for her phone, lifting it to her ear moments later.

"Hi, Finn?...Yes, hi it's Rachel! From Anything Goes?...Yeah. Well I was wondering if you were still interested in that date with my friend Quinn?...Perfect…Yeah…Tomorrow's great! Where?...Okay. She will see you there! Thanks, bye!" She grinned as she hung up the phone, turning to Quinn, "Okay, you have a date with Finn tomorrow night at Johnny Rocket's Diner. You know where that is, yes?"

"Um, yeah. I'm going on a date to a _diner_?" She asked incredulously, and Rachel nodded with a shrug.

"Yeah that's where he suggested. He must prefer more casual dates. What are you going to wear?"

"Shh! Its starting!" Quinn's eyes were immediately glued to the screen, "And I don't know, help me look later."

"Okay." Rachel replied without tearing her eyes away from the TV.

-oOo-

"Oh my God." Rachel shook her head.

"I can't believe it." Quinn stared open-mouthed at the screen as the credits rolled.

"Jesus. I can't wait for next week." She took a deep breath, finally looking away from the screen to glance at Quinn. "Oh my God, for a second I forgot you had a haircut!" She giggled, "It was so weird!"

"I know! I keep looking in the mirror and forgetting." Quinn rolled her eyes, "So talking of my hair, wanna help me decide what to wear?"

"Of course." Rachel nodded solemnly, "Although, do you actually _have _anything to wear?" Quinn frowned, but Rachel continued, "Because you know, as much as you love your baggy jeans and old, faded, ripped, skate-brand t-shirts, I don't think guys will find it that attractive."

"Ugh." The blonde groaned, "This dating thing is already too much effort. Can I wear my converse?" She asked, wincing in preparation for Rachel's answer.

"No. You can't wear anything made by Converse, Vans, Volcom or Etnies." She shook her head fervently and Quinn sighed heavily.

"Fine. Let's go choose my outfit." She replied regretfully.

"Okay!" Rachel grinned, leaping off the sofa and running up the spiral staircase with Quinn in tow. She flung the doors of Quinn's wardrobe open, gasping as her eyes settled on the contents. "Oh my _God_, Quinn! This is insane! What the fuck?" She gawped at the contents, turning to gaze wide-eyed at Quinn, who shrugged bashfully.

All the clothes in the large, walk-in wardrobe were separated into piles of different items, which were then separated into piles of different colours. All her shoes were lined up neatly on low shelves around the edge of the wardrobe, whilst the items on the hanging rail were organised by colour.

"I just like it organised." The blonde shrugged, and Rachel laughed aloud.

"No kidding! It's like the OCD headquarters in here. Why is your floor so messy when your wardrobe is so tidy?" She demanded incredulously, and Quinn shrugged, "I mean...just why?! You're really letting your perfectly-organised wardrobe down." She tutted, "Still though, I do envy your wardrobe. I can't even imagine being so organised. My closet looks like Pearl Harbour." She rolled her eyes before stepping in to the closet to rifle through the clothes.

"So, something casual?" Quinn frowned, "How casual?"

"Um…I'd stay away from dresses, do you have any smart jeans? That aren't baggy or men's." She tilted her head and the blonde stepped forward with a sigh.

"Um, I don't know. There's not much choice." She grimaced, before sighing, "Okay, these ones." Rachel announced, thrusting a coat hanger holding black skinny jeans into Quinn's chest. "Now for a shirt."

Rachel hummed thoughtfully, flicking through various items of clothing as Quinn hooked the hanger over the bathroom door handle and collapsed onto the bedcover with a sigh.

_What am I doing? Going on a date with a complete stranger?! He could be psychotic! Or super boring. What if he doesn't even show up? What if I make a total ass of myself? WHY AM I EVEN GOING ON THIS DATE?!_

"So are you excited?" Rachel asked absent-mindedly.

"Not really." She mumbled, staring up at the ceiling. Rachel turned on her heel, crossing to the bed and perching on the edge, looking sympathetic.

"How come?" She tilted her head, reaching over to take Quinn's hand as it lay on the bed.

"I don't know. It seems like there's a lot that could go wrong. It could be a disaster." She pulled herself upright with a shrug, "It's just that…I've never been on a date before."

"So? It's easy. You're funny and sweet, your new hair looks gorgeous, you're _interesting_! You will have lots to talk about and he is going to think you are awesome for all of the reasons that I think you're awesome, and Santana and my dads think you're awesome. You just need to show _him_ that. Confidence!" She gave Quinn's hand a squeeze before standing up and going back to the closet. "Okay here, this shirt will have to do, so wear it those jeans. What shoes have you got?"

"Um…just sneakers. Converse, Vans…I think I have some flip flops somewhere." Quinn shrugged, and Rachel rolled her eyes.

"Really?" The blonde nodded, her new shorter layers bouncing, and Rachel shook her head, "Okay what size are you?"

"Five."

"Good. So am I. You can wear these." She used her toes to prise her ankle boots off her feet, handing them to Quinn, who frowned down at them. Rachel stood awkwardly in her socks, "I'm going to need some sneakers for when I go home."

Quinn stared from Rachel's bare feet to the ankle boots on her lap, wondering what just happened, "Okay. No problem."

"So we're good! Let's go back downstairs." She removed the ankle boots, placing them by the bathroom door before taking Quinn's hand and pulling her to her feet, leading her down the stairs without letting go.

"I have some wine leftover from last night if you want some?" The blonde raised her eyebrows, heading into the kitchen.

"Yeah, sounds good to me. Why were you drinking wine last night?"

"Oh, Santana stuck around after that guy cut my hair." She shrugged, "I was supposed to be working yesterday but she quickly put a stop to that." Quinn rolled her eyes.

"Oh man. Sounds like a nice night though."

"Yeah, she managed to not insult me for a total of an hour and a half. Impressive." Quinn nodded admiringly, filling two glasses as Rachel giggled.

"I say again, I have no idea how you put up with her." The brunette picked up her glass and led the way to the sofa as Quinn followed behind.

"She's not all bad. She has a good heart, when it's not obstructed by her incessantly burning loins." She shook her head as Rachel chuckled, and they fell into an easy silence as they sipped their wine in the lamplight.

"Play for me." Rachel said simply, in a gentle voice. Quinn almost choked on her wine, coughing a little before regaining her composure and dropping her head onto the back of the sofa.

"What do you mean?" Quinn asked, rolling her head to the side to look at Rachel, her brow furrowed.

"Your guitar. Play it." She gestured to the acoustic in the corner, and Quinn raised her eyebrows as she realised what the brunette meant.

"Oh. Right. Why?"

"I've never head you play." Rachel shrugged, "I wanna know if you're good." She winked cheekily and Quinn snorted.

"Yes you have." Rachel shook her head, "Really? Okay then, if you're sure…" Rachel nodded enthusiastically and the blonde shrugged, crossing to the guitar and plucking it off its stand. She stood awkwardly in front of the sofa, shifting the guitar around until it was comfortable, before turning to Rachel.

"Um…I don't know what to play." She frowned, but Rachel shrugged.

"Anything. I don't care. If I know it I'll join in." She grinned. Quinn paused for a moment before beginning plucking the introduction to the song.

"I have taken a wrong turn. When will I learn? When will I learn?" Quinn stared down at the wooden floor as she sang, ensuring not to meet Rachel's eye in case she lost her nerve. "Shall I show them all my scars? Cherry red, bleeding burn."

Rachel watched the blonde, her mouth open slightly, as Quinn continued, "Like an angry apple tree. I throw my apples if you get too close to me." She began wandering around the living room as she launched into the chorus, "But if I look to my right, will I see the one I fight for? If I look to my right. Or if I turn to my left, will I see that I have kept my heart locked up? Locked up so tight."

She stood by the window as she began the second verse, staring out at the view as she played, "Love, love, love is everywhere. But not a drop for me to drink. Tie me up and bind my feet. Drop me in and watch me sink." As she sang the second chorus, she wandered back over in the direction of the sofa, sitting down beside Rachel

"If I was seventeen, I could find it in between the cushions of somebody's couch. I could find it, I could find it. If I was seventeen, I could find it in a dream. A dime a dozen kind of love. I could find it, I could find it." She punctuated her words by hitting the side of her guitar, tapping out the beat as she sang. "But I'm not seventeen, and I lost it in between the birthday cakes and past mistakes that roll by."

She stared at the wall opposite as she began the final chorus, and a small smile played around Rachel's lips as she sat and listened as Quinn plucked the final notes.

"There you go." She finished playing and sat awkwardly, her guitar resting on her lap as Rachel watched her.

"How can you say you're not interested in love, when the first song that comes to mind when I ask you to play… is _that _one?" She gazed at the blonde, who's mouth dropped open slightly, stunned at the girl's observation.

"Um, I dunno." She shrugged nonchalantly, "It's just a song that I know well enough to play confidently."

"So there's no reason at all why you love playing that song? It doesn't resonate with you or anything?" Rachel quirked an eyebrow sceptically, but Quinn shrugged again.

"Nope. None at all." She smiled brightly, but Rachel knew it was faked. She took a deep breath.

"Well, I liked it." She grinned slowly, and Quinn finally met her gaze, raising her eyebrows self-consciously. "I mean, I didn't know the song, but it was nice. And you sounded great. Play me another one." She nodded her head to urge Quinn on, but the blonde frowned, shaking her head slowly.

"No, don't make me." She chuckled, "You got your song. You've heard me play now, that's enough."

"Oh, come on." Rachel pouted playfully, prodding the blonde in the ribs. "Play me one I know so I can join in!" She sat forward excitedly and Quinn tilted her head, her mouth twisted thoughtfully for a moment.

"Okay fine." She frowned. "Last one though, regardless of puppy dog eyes." She narrowed her eyes in warning and Rachel giggled, giving her arm a small shove. "Okay…" Quinn took a deep breath, pausing thoughtfully before nodding, "Got one. One you definitely know."

She turned sideways on the couch, sitting with one leg curled under her, so that she was facing Rachel this time, and took a deep breath. She started whistling, and Rachel instantly grinned as she recognized the song, leaning forward to place her wine glass on the coffee table while Quinn began to play the opening chords.

"I'll be the boy." She added as she played the introduction, giving Rachel a nod, "You start."

The brunette nodded her agreement, before taking her cue from Quinn, "Alabama, Arkansas, I do love my Ma and Pa. Not the way that I do love you."

"Holy Moley, Me-oh-my, you're the apple of my eye." The blonde grinned, "Girl, I've never loved one like you."

Rachel giggled, nodding as she realised that their roles in the song were working, "Man, oh man, you're my best friend, I scream it to the nothingness. There ain't nothin' that I need."

"Well, hot & heavy, pumpkin pie, chocolate candy, Jesus Christ. There ain't nothin' please me more than you."

Rachel pointed to her chest and then to Quinn, and the blonde nodded as they both joined in the chorus, "Oh, home. Let me come home. Home is wherever I'm with you. Oh, home. Let me come home. Home is wherever I'm with you."

"La la la la, take me home," Quinn continued, "Baby, I'm coming home."

Rachel giggled as Quinn paused, comically plucking the strings, bobbing her head in time. "I'll follow you into the park, through the jungle, through the dark. Girl, I've never loved one like you." The blonde continued.

"Moats & boats & waterfalls, alley ways & pay phone calls. I've been everywhere with you."

"That's true!" The blonde interjected, and Rachel chuckled at the girl's thorough knowledge of the song. "We laugh until we think we'll die, barefoot on a summer night. Nothin' new is sweeter than with you."

"And in the streets we're running free, like i's only you and me. Geez, you're somethin' to see." Rachel shook her head slowly, gazing admiringly at the blonde as she sang, before they launched into the chorus once again.

The blonde cut the song short by leaving out the bridge and continuing straight into the final chorus, adding the beat into the song by pounding the heel of her hand against her guitar as she sang, and Rachel grinned as she harmonised with the blonde so they finished the song in perfect unison. Quinn played the last chord with a huge grin before removing the guitar strap from round her neck and balancing the guitar against the sofa on the floor.

"Okay, that was pretty good." The blonde grinned, "We should do that more often."

"Oh my God, Quinn! I just had an idea." Rachel grabbed her leg excitedly, digging her fingers into the flesh of the blonde's thigh, "There's this little club that I sing at sometimes, okay, and they do open mic nights. You should go and play for people!"

"No, Rach. Don't be silly." She shook her head firmly, "It was hard enough playing in front of you, never mind strangers."

"Well, you could come along next time I go then?" She suggested with a small shrug, "I started doing the open mic stuff and then the manager offered me a regular spot. Every other week I go and sing a few songs, I'm like the evening entertainment." She sighed as Quinn settled back on the sofa, watching her with a small frown, "I know it's not a step closer to Broadway or anything but it's a good earner on the side." She shrugged sadly, and the blonde nodded.

"Yeah, maybe I'll do it once or twice. Do you think they'd pay you extra?" She asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I have no idea. They would probably pay you though, I'm sure. If you tried the open mic and the manager agreed to let you sing on my nights, he'd pay you as well."

"Okay. I don't really need the money, but if _we'd _get paid more together, then you could earn more." She shrugged, but Rachel shook her head.

"No way. If you do this with me then we split all profit equally." She replied, taking a large swig of wine. "I don't take money from friends."

Quinn rolled her eyes, "Rach, I don't mind! I have more than enough for just me and Barney, and I know you'd pay me back one day when you were better off. I really don't mind." She replied exasperatedly, but Rachel still shook her head.

"No way, what if I'm never better off and I couldn't pay you back?"

She shrugged, "Well then you couldn't pay me back and you'd have to just keep the money."

"And what if you needed the money back?" Rachel countered, but Quinn twisted her mouth awkwardly.

"Um…I don't think I would." She replied vaguely, and Rachel frowned.

"But what if you did?"

"Yeah…I don't know, my job is a pretty good earner." She shrugged, and the brunette raised an eyebrow, "Yeah. It's just, I make really specialised security systems. They're literally custom built. Obviously all of the lock systems are one of a kind, but even some of the concepts are one of a kind. People pay big money to keep their shit safe." She shrugged and Rachel's eyebrows lifted.

"Wow. I see. I didn't realise you earned so much. I mean, I wondered how you afforded rent on such a good apartment, but-" Rachel frowned, but Quinn interrupted.

"Oh, no I own it." She shook her head, and Rachel's jaw dropped.

"You _own _this place? I thought you rented?" She asked incredulously, gawping at the blonde, who shifted uncomfortably.

"Nope. Saw it. Bought it…Own it." She nodded awkwardly, and Rachel looked away to gaze around the apartment.

"Wow…so how do I become a locksmith?" She asked casually, and Quinn laughed loudly.

"_You_ don't." She pointed her finger at the brunette's chest, "_You_ go to open mic nights and get yourself a regular slot and audition for different shows and work your way up to Broadway. Then when you're world-famous and incredibly well-paid, I'll come fit the locks on your mansion."

"I'll drink to that." Rachel chuckled, lifting her glass. Quinn tapped her own against it before taking a sip and resting her head on the back of the sofa once more, staring up at the ceiling. Barney plodded across the floor, jumping up between the girls on the sofa and laying across their laps, dropping his weight down sharply. Rachel groaned as Quinn huffed, shifting the dogs back end so he was laid comfortably on her lap, frowning hard.

-oOo-

"Okay, are you sure you're good to get home?" Quinn asked, biting her lip as Rachel pulled her jacket on.

"Yeah, I'm sure I'll be fine." She shrugged, "I've only had a couple of drinks." She paused thoughtfully, "Actually, to be honest I'm probably just going to take advantage of the fact that my fathers' residence is two streets down and make use of their impeccably decorated guest room."

"Sounds like a good plan." Quinn smiled, handing the girl her bag. The small brunette took it from her and slung it over her shoulder before leaning in to pull Quinn into a crushing hug.

"Hey, um, can I ask you something?" The blonde narrowed her eyes with a small, worried frown. Rachel pulled back, her brows furrowed with concern.

"Of course you can. Is everything alright?"

"Yeah, of course." Quinn shrugged, leaning on the doorframe of her front door, "It's just…why does it matter so much to you that I start dating? Honestly?"

She watched as Rachel was silent for a second, staring thoughtfully down at the ground before meeting the blonde's gaze and taking a breath, "I just think you're funny and smart and interesting and you could have absolutely anybody that you want, if you would just let yourself." She shrugged sadly, "I know I've been the driving force behind all this but I don't want to push you if you really are against it. I just think that you could get anybody that you want, and you're so amazing that you deserve the kind of person who is going to appreciate that, and love you so much for it. You deserve to be loved, maybe more than anyone else I know." She shook her head incredulously, "And I think that secretly, deep down, you _do _want somebody to love and to spend your time with and I think you want somebody that you can mean everything to. I know you're not lonely or anything, but…there's more to life, you know?"

She frowned, glancing away as Quinn nodded slowly.

"I see." She gazed around the apartment before turning back to Rachel, "I appreciate that you want those things for me."

"Of course I do." Rachel replied passionately, taking a step forward to stand in front of Quinn, "You deserve the best, and I want you to find that. Because you're my best friend, and I love you."

The blonde smiled, nodding her head in thanks, "Okay. Well, it's my big date tomorrow so…I'm going to get to bed." She took Rachel's hand and pulled her forwards into another hug, squeezing her firmly, "I love you too."

"Okay, I'll see you later." Rachel gave her an extra squeeze before releasing the blonde and turning to leave the apartment. Quinn waved after her and Rachel glanced over her shoulder with a giggle before turning to jog down the stairs and out of the building.

The blonde swung the door closed with a soft click, taking a deep breath and letting it out in a long stream, turning on her heel to find Barney staring at her from the sofa. She grinned fondly at him, crossing to kneel by the sofa and ruffle his ears, placing a kiss on top of his head.

"Need to go out before bedtime?" She raised her eyebrows and he gave a small bark, jumping off the sofa and moving to wait patiently by the door. The girl threw on a plaid shirt over her thin t-shirt and shoved her feet into her old sneakers, grabbing the lead and clipping it to Barney's collar.

She took him for a short walk around the block, allowing him to use the toilet before they went to bed, and they soon returned to the apartment. She locked the door behind them and made herself a glass of water for in the morning, heading upstairs to change into her pyjamas before returning downstairs to carry Barney up to the bedroom. Throwing a blanket over half of the bed, she patted the left side and the blonde dog immediately jumped up happily, settling himself on the blanket as she pulled back the covers and squeezed in beside him.

Snuggling down in the bed, she rubbed her head back and forth on the pillow to get comfy, reaching out to turn off the lamp at her bedside before turning back to the blonde dog and throwing an arm around him, burying her face in his fur and listening as he began snoring steadily, a content smile across her face as she drifted off to sleep.


	4. Chapter 4

_Okay, just a little note before you read this chapter. Finn is featured in it, and I hope nobody takes offence from the content. I wrote this chapter before Cory Monteith's death, and there is no offence meant towards him or his character._

_Also, I appreciate people giving feedback and I know that a lot of you want a Quintana endgame. But I haven't decided who is endgame yet, the story will tell itself as I write it. But reviews and opinions are always welcome, and thank you to all of the people who left lovely reviews :D_

* * *

**This thing called love, I just can't handle it. This thing called love, I must get round to it. I ain't ready. Crazy little thing called love – **_**Queen, Crazy Little Thing Called Love**_

I don't see Rachel or Santana the next day. It seems unfair that they've spent days harassing me about dating and my social life and my _dog_, for Christ's sake, and now that I actually need their help, they're nowhere to be found. Actually that's not true, Santana is working and Rachel is in rehearsals all day. I sigh heavily as I stare at myself in the mirror.

I'm wearing the outfit Rachel picked out for me yesterday, my hair is styled exactly how Kurt taught me to do it, and I like to think I look okay. I even made an effort to dig out some old make-up from my bathroom and copy a step-by-step instruction guide that Santana emailed me. I survey everything from my hair to Rachel's boots, swallowing hard as my heart pounds in my chest. I've finally seen a picture of Finn so that I can recognise him when I arrive at the diner, and Rachel was right – he is quite cute.

I check my old casio watch, biting my lip and turning on my heel to face Barney, taking a deep breath, "How do I look?"

He's laid out on the bed, his chin resting on his front paws as he watches me get ready. He lifts his head up, his eyebrows twitching upwards, and I nod, "Thanks, sweetie. Your support means a lot." I go over to sit beside him and rub his head, immediately jumping back up as I realise the bed is covered with blonde dog hairs and I'm wearing black jeans.

I look at myself in the mirror once more before heading down the spiral staircase, Barney following behind me. Checking the time again, I gulp down a large glass of water before grabbing Barney's lead, clipping it to his collar and checking my satchel for everything I need before leaving the apartment, a sense of dread settling in my stomach.

As I walk Barney round to Rachel's dads' apartment, I attempt to psyche myself up for my date. It's nothing serious, just a casual first date. We're only going to a diner, for Christ's sake, I don't even know why I'm so nervous. I've never met Finn so it's not like I have anything to live up to – unless Rachel's been talking me up. To be honest, I don't want to know if she has. Despite my initial scepticism, I'm actually quite glad our date is only at a diner; I'd be even more terrified if it was going to be a formal date. I sigh heavily as I reach the Berrys' apartment building, reluctant to leave Barney behind. I'm tempted to simply turn around and go home, spending the night on the sofa in my pants and socks watching documentaries and eating Nutella from the jar, but Rachel would lynch me if I did.

I take a deep breath and enter the building, heading up the stairs to Leroy and Hiram's door, knocking quickly and shifting my weight from foot to foot as I wait. Hiram pulls the door open a few moments later, a parrot perched jauntily on his shoulder, and he greets me with a wide grin.

"Quinnie! Come on in." He stands back and Barney drags me into the apartment, struggling against his lead to join the other dogs in the living room.

"Captain. How are you?" I attempt to smile as I lean down to unclip Barney, and Hiram closes the door behind me as Leroy sticks his head around the living room door.

"We're good, thanks, I-"

"You look nice." Leroy interrupts, and I look down at my outfit nervously, biting my lip. Hiram momentarily looks affronted, but is immediately distracted by my appearance.

"Thanks. I have my date with Finn tonight." I twist my mouth unsurely, but Hiram shakes his head.

"Don't be nervous at all, you look gorgeous!" He waves a hand at me before leaning back to perch on a side table by the wall. "He'll want to rip those jeans right off you." He looks down at my skinny jeans with a frown, "Hm. You'd better hope he's strong."

"Oh don't listen to him." Leroy rolls his eyes, "You _do_ look gorgeous, and I'm sure you'll have a great time. Just be yourself."

"Yeah, 'kay." I nod apprehensively, and Leroy tilts his head sympathetically.

"Oh, honey. We know it's scary but I promise it will get easier. Don't be scared." He looks at me evenly and I take a deep breath, nodding firmly.

"Okay. Well, I'd better go or I'll be late." I grimace momentarily, "I don't know what time I'll be back but I'm sure it won't be too late." I shrug but Hiram shakes his head.

"Don't worry about it, if we want to go to bed before you get back we'll just leave Barney on the street." He shrugs, mock-serious, and I gasp.

"How dare you!" I act aghast, "He is a majestic king; how could you do that to him?"

Hiram and Leroy chuckle, and I take a step towards the doorway, "Well, if you are late back then we'll just leave Barney at your apartment when we take the dogs for their last walk." Leroy shrugged, and I nod my head in thanks.

"Cool. Okay, thank you, and I will see you tonight." I attempt a grin, before turning and leaving their apartment with a deep, uneven breath.

-oOo-

I arrive at the diner ten minutes early, staring through the huge windows to search for Finn as I pass, but he's nowhere to be seen. Pushing through the doors, I attempt to calm my nerves as a waitress greets me at the door with a beaming smile.

"Hi, there! Welcome to Johnny Rocket's; do you have a booking?" She raises her eyebrows at me and I stare back, dumbstruck for a second before I give my head a shake and take a breath to reply.

"Oh, um, I assume so. I'm meeting a guy called Finn, for a date? I don't know his last name." I frown at this sudden realisation. Well, that's worrying. At least Rachel, Santana, Hiram a_nd _Leroy know I'm here.

Not that that will help if he tries to kill me.

But at least they'll start looking for my body pretty sharpish.

"Oh, yes, there's a reservation under Finn." She smiles brightly, "That's handy, huh?" She grins and I raise my eyebrows, nodding awkwardly.

"Um, yeah." I nod, "So…can I sit at the table?"

"Of course!" She's still grinning. "Follow me!"

I may be looking at the back of her head, but I'm pretty sure she doesn't stop grinning the entire way to the table. She leads us to a table beside the wall with banquette seating, and I slide into the booth with a grateful smile.

"Can I get you anything to drink?" Seriously, how can she be so happy working here?

"Um…just a coke please." She nods and wanders off to the bar counter in the corner, and I gaze around the diner with a nervous frown. Ugh, I hope Finn arrives soon. I mean, I know I'm early and very new to dating, but I feel like tardiness isn't something I'll appreciate in a date. Let's face it, the sooner he arrives, the sooner this nightmare can end and I can go home and go to bed.

Come on, Quinn. What kind of inspirational words would Rachel give you right now to make this situation seem less awful and hopeless?

_You've got to acc-en-tuate the positive. E-lim-inate the negative._

Imagining Rachel's carefree, chipper voice isn't making me feel any better right now. My stomach is still turning with nerves. I wonder what Santana would say?

_What's love got to do, got to do with it? Who needs a heart when a heart can be broken?_

Well, although neither of them regularly speak in song lyrics (aside from when Rachel's had half a sherry), Santana's sarcastic, dulcet tones _do _make me feel more positive in comparison.

I take a deep breath, glancing around at the other diners as I pull my phone from my bag to check the time. He's five minutes late. I sigh, rolling my eyes and turning my attention to the interior. There's a huge 50's style jukebox in the corner, along with miniature versions on each table for diners to choose the next track. Impressed, I flick through the various options, chuckling to myself as I come across old classics. The walls are covered in old posters for classic bands, vinyl records, retro coca-cola adverts and poster boards for old cars. As I'm admiring a guitar-shaped neon light, the bell above the door tinkles, and I turn my head to see a huge boy stood by the counter at the door.

It's him. I recognise him from the picture Rachel showed me, and he is cute, although she wasn't exaggerating when she said he's tall. The waitress that greeted me is still over by the bar, so I wave my hand in the air to gain his attention. He spots me and grins, making his way over to the table in two huge strides, and I stand to greet him.

Oh my God. As I stand, I find myself face-to-chest with Finn, who pulls me into a hug before I'm even aware of it. Okay, so apparently people don't just shake hands anymore.

"Hey, it's great to meet you!" He beams as he releases me, pumping my hand enthusiastically, "I'm Finn."

"Hi, Finn. I'm Quinn." I smile self-consciously, and he chuckles.

"Our names totally rhyme!" He grins, nodding his head, and I raise my eyebrows slightly. Giving him a bemused smile, I nod my head.

"Yeah, they do." I agree with a nervous titter, but he doesn't seem to notice.

"So, have you been waiting long?" He asks me, reaching for a drinks menu, and I shake my head with a shrug.

"Um, no not really. I just got here, actually." I lie to be polite, and he nods absent-mindedly as he silently scans the menu. I sit awkwardly as his eyes remained glued on the words, and I'm almost grateful when the smiley waitress finally returns with my drink.

"Thank you." I smile, taking a large sip to wet my dry mouth.

"No problem. Can I get you anything sir?" She grins, and Finn twists his mouth thoughtfully, eventually looking up with a nod.

"Yeah, I'll get a root beer float please?" The waitress nods and heads back in the direction of the bar, and Finn turns to me with an expectant smile. I stare back for a moment as I search my brain for something to say.

"So…Finn. Rachel said she met you at her audition." I begin stiltedly, "Um, are you an actor?"

He gives a loud laugh, throwing his head back and shaking his head. I raise a bewildered eyebrow as he manages to control himself, "No. No, I'm not an actor. Sorry, I just, I can't imagine anything worse!" He chuckles, raising his eyebrows at me for validation, "You know, going to hundreds of auditions and just being turned down time after time? All I see every day is people who think they're the next big thing but who are actually just, you know, _awful_. No, actors are ridiculous." He shakes his head,

"My best friend is an actress." I point out, my eyes narrowed humourously, and he tilts his head with a casual shrug.

"Yeah, but Rachel's not like all the others." He hurries to tell me, and I raise an eyebrow, "You know, she's seriously talented. I think out of all the actors I see, she could really make it, you know?"

"Yeah." I agree, nodding enthusiastically. I smell bullshit. The waitress appears with Finn's drink, and hands us a menu each, which we scan over as we continue talking.

"But no, I work backstage in the theatre, I do all the lighting design and rigging. It's pretty cool, actually. I like getting to see behind-the scenes." He leans in conspiratorially, "Maybe one day I could give you a tour."

"Yeah." I nod, my eyebrows raised, "Sounds like it would be pretty cool." I smile politely, "You clearly love what you do."

"Oh God, yeah. I love tackling little problems, working with my hands but also you know, designing the lighting for different shows. I like how each piece of equipment has different purposes and specialities. I love seeing the audience's faces light up when they watch the shows, I like being part of something so much bigger." I nod, smiling as he babbles animatedly.

"I love how passionate people in theatre are." I muse, "Like Rachel, she's so spirited when it comes to theatre, and shows. And you're so fanatical about it; it's nice that you both have such a passion for your work."

"Yeah." He smiles, gazing at me for a second before another waiter appears by our table.

I realise now that the other waitress smiles so much in compensation of this acne-covered teen, who looks close to putting his head in the smoothie blender.

"Are you ready to order?" He asks in a low mumble, and Finn raises a quizzical eyebrow at me, glancing up at the waiter with amusement.

I hold back a chuckle and nod, "Um, yes. I think so?" Finn nods and I continue, "I will have the grilled pineapple hamburger please, with a side of…" I want the garlic fries, but even _I_ know that that is awful date etiquette, "sweet potato fries please."

"Mmhm. You?" The teen grunts, and Finn half-rolls his eyes before answering.

"Yeah, I'll have the variety basket please?" My eyes scan down the menu to find Finn's dish.

Five sliders, five chicken wings, onion rings, fries and garlic mayo. Wow. That's a lot of food; I'm pretty sure that basket is actually for sharing. Well, I suppose he _is _a big guy. Although, I'm a little bitter that it turns out Finn is actually less concerned with date etiquette than I am. I could have got garlic fries.

The waiter practically snatches the menu out of my hand, and stalks off across the diner. Finn rolls his eyes exaggeratedly and I giggle.

"Well, he was a real ray of sunshine, huh?" He widens his eyes and I nod, my brows furrowed in disbelief, "So, we talked about my job. What do you do?"

"Um…" I frown uneasily, "It's not that interesting, really. I'm technically kind of like a locksmith?" I glance around the diner awkwardly as he frowns at me.

"_Like_ a locksmith? What do you mean?"

"Well, I design and build locks. Like, I'm not a regular locksmith who goes around changing the locks so ex-wives can't terrorise cheating husbands." I roll my eyes and he chuckles loudly, "I design and make bespoke locks for security systems, personal safety deposit boxes, safes. That sort of stuff."

His eyebrows slowly lift higher up his forehead as I talk, until his eyes are wide, and he nods slowly, "Oh. I see. That's…well, that's really something."

"I know." I snort nervously, "It's not your run-of-the-mill office job."

"It sounds interesting though, do you enjoy it?"

"Oh, yeah. I couldn't imagine doing anything else. I like that I have the freedom of being self-employed and working from home. Means spending more time with Barney, my dog." Finn's face wrinkles into a grimace, and I pause. "What's wrong?"

"I hate dogs." He admits reluctantly, and my jaw drops open, my eyebrows quirking upwards.

"You hate dogs?" I ask incredulously, and he nods unwillingly.

"Well, it's not that I _hate_ them, I just…you can never tell what they're thinking! You never know when one wants to bite you or something! And they growl, and bark super loud. They just freak me out a little." He squirms in his chair, and I watch him disbelievingly, "And the hairs! They get hair _everywhere_. I can't stand it, they get in your mouth, up your nose. It feels like you're suffocating!"

"Oh my God!" I giggle, shaking my head, "I can understand about the hair, because it _does_ go everywhere. But there is absolutely no reason to be freaked out. I can _always_ tell what Barney is thinking. Partly because of his mannerisms, but mostly because it's usually either 'food' or 'let me sleep'. And he rarely barks, and never _ever _bites. Most dogs don't."

"Hmm." Finn frowns doubtfully, nodding his head, "If you say so."

I shake my head disbelievingly as he takes a sip of his drink, and the cheery waitress appears with a tray of food. She sets the dishes out on the table in front of us, and Finn thanks her before she leaves us alone once again.

"This looks awesome!" He beams, rubbing his hands together excitedly.

"Yeah, it looks great." I nod unsurely. Frankly, my burger looks a little _too_ greasy for my liking. Just a little. And that's coming from a girl who buys pizza from street corners.

Finn immediately tucks in to his food, and pretty soon his fingers and mouth are covered in sauce and a small tendril of chicken is hanging from his lip. I bow my head and eat my burger quietly. My sweet potato fries taste like bitter disappointment as I watch Finn dipping fries in his garlic mayo.

"So what do you do for fun?" Finn asks through a mouthful of fries. I resist the urge to wince and take a deep breath as I contemplate what I do as a hobby. Aside from work.

Oh God. What do I do apart from work? I've already told him about Barney and look how that turned out. Oh God. I have no hobbies. I work, sleep, eat and talk to my dog. Santana was right. I'm pathetic. Oh my God. Okay, he's staring. You look weird. Make up a hobby. Anything.

"Rock climbing." I blurt out, and his face lights up.

"What? No way!" He swallows his mouthful and his face splits into a huge grin, "I _love_ rock-climbing! I go like, every week!"

Oh my God. Just my fucking luck.

"We should totally go sometime!" He raves excitedly, "I could spot you!"

Oh God.

"Although, I don't know if you spotting me would be such a good idea." He chuckles at his own joke, and I force a polite giggle.

Abort. Abort.

"So, do you go aid climbing, bouldering, free soloing?" He raises his eyebrows, "Although, I bet you're more of a free climber, huh?"

I have no idea what he is talking about.

"Um…no actually. Free soloing." I bluff, nodding casually.

"Really? That's amazing. So what technique; do you prefer crack, face or slab?" He asks interestedly, and I take a deep breath, pretending to contemplate his question.

What does that even mean?

"I would definitely say crack."

"Wow." He shakes his head, blowing out a long stream of breath, "You're a pretty wild girl, huh? So where do you usually go?"

Oh sweet Jesus.

"You know," I shrug, "Just…around."

He chuckles, wiping his mouth on his napkin, "Okay, I'm just gonna go use the bathroom, I'll be right back."

"No problem." I shrug with a relieved smile.

As soon as his back is turned, I rummage through my satchel, retrieving my phone and tapping out a text.

**Santana, google free-solo rock climbing and crack technique! URGENTLY xx**

I sit bouncing my legs nervously as I wait for a reply until my phone suddenly pings on the table.

**Free-soloing is climbing without the use of any rope or protection system. If you fall, you die. Crack climbing is where you use cracks in rock to climb up. Why? Xx**

My jaw drops as I realise what a ridiculous lie I've just told, and my breathing grows shallow as I type out a reply.

**Holy shit! That is fucking hardcore! I just told this guy that I do those things! HELP ME xx**

I sit staring around the diner, panicking to myself. What if Finn asks me to go rock climbing with him? I can't do that stuff. I'm terrified of heights, and I _really _don't want to die. My phone pings again as I consider leaving some money and running out of the diner.

**What? WHY DID YOU SAY THAT?! What is wrong with you xx**

I sigh, rolling my eyes at her entirely unhelpful reply.

**I don't know. He asked what hobbies I have so I said rock-climbing :/ xx**

She replies almost instantly.

**I have known you for almost a decade and you have never been rock climbing. I repeat, what is wrong with you?! Xx**

Wow, Finn has been gone a while. I frown, craning my neck to see the door to the bathrooms, not that it helps. Hmm.

**I don't have any hobbies. What was I supposed to say? I didn't know he'd be a rock-climbing fanatic! Xx**

I sigh heavily as I Send the text, before tapping out another quickly.

**Also, he hates dogs.**

**HE HATES DOGS?! Who is this dude? Xx**

Santana's reply makes me snort with laughter, and soon my phone pings again.

**Need me to ring and tell you there's an emergency? Your aunt Meryl just got hit by a helicopter xx**

I chuckle again, but don't get a chance to reply as Finn appears from the bathrooms.

"Hey, sorry about that." He grins, taking his seat once again. "So where were we?"

"Um, do you have any pets?" I ask quickly, making sure to steer the conversation as far away from rock-climbing as physically possible.

"No, none whatsoever. I'm allergic to cats, you know how I feel about dogs," He cringes guiltily, "And reptiles make me shudder." He grimaced, lifting his shoulders uncomfortably, "Plus, I don't really like the idea of something else relying on me so much, you know? I like my freedom, its good not having anything depending on me and me alone."

"Oh, really? I kind of like that Barney needs me so much." I shrug, and he raises his eyebrows, "You know, his love is just so unconditional. There are no ulterior motives; his heart is just so pure. It's nice knowing he'll love me no matter what, I like having someone to love me entirely."

"Well, I'm sure it isn't just a dog you could get that from." He croons, smiling shyly at me. I force myself to smile politely, giving him a small nod. He opens his mouth to say something else, but my bag erupts with a loud, annoying tune. I frown suddenly, finding it in my bag and seeing _Santana_ flashing up on the screen.

"I'm sorry, this will be really quick." I hold up a finger as I press the answer button, "Hey, Santana."

"Q! Do you need rescuing?" She puts on a mock-croaky voice, "Please come, Quinnie, the helicopter blades took my legs. Heeelp, Quinniiieee."

I hold back a laugh as Finn watches me with a concerned frown.

"No, thanks Santana. I'm great." I reply uneasily.

"Really?" She asks, sounding surprise, "You don't want to high-tail it out of there before he invites you to go… 'simul climbing'?"

"Yeah, it's fine."

"Cause, this is your perfect opportunity. I'm your emergency if you need it?" She taunts, and I sigh, speaking through gritted teeth.

"No. It's. Fine. I'll talk to you later. Bye."

"See you later, Quinnie. Don't fuck on the first date!" She adds, raising her voice so I can hear her as I hang up.

"Sorry about that." I smile politely, but Finn shrugs.

"So who was it?"

"Just my best friend, Santana. She was checking I'm okay, that's all."

"Oh, really? So there's no big emergency or anything?" He raises his eyebrows knowingly, and I'm at a loss for words.

"No, actually she didn't even know that I was on a date." I lie.

Wow, what has dating done to me? I'm like a scarlet woman.

"Oh, okay. I see." He smiles, nodding and finishing off his food, "Do you want dessert?"

"Um, I only just finished so I'm not sure right now. I'm still a little full." I frown thoughtfully, "Maybe I could manage one, if I have a little rest first." He chuckles with a nod.

"Okay no problem. Listen," He takes a deep breath, "I don't want to seem too forward or anything, but I've had a really great time tonight."

I nod faux-confidently, "Yeah, I've enjoyed myself." I smile tightly, "Thank you."

Before he can reply, the grumpy teenage-boy waiter reappears, removing our plates from the table, "Are you having dessert?" He asks impatiently, and Finn nods.

"Yes, can we see the menu please?"

"Fine." He leaves us alone again, and I roll my eyes.

"He just gets more and more polite!" I laugh, shaking my head.

"I know, right? Who would employ that guy?" He asks incredulously, as the chipper waitress appears to hand us both a menu.

"Yeah, so I was just thinking, we should do this again." Finn continues with a sincere nod.

Oh no, this again.

"Yeah, maybe." I nod, looking down at my menu, "What do you think you'll order?"

"Oh, I don't know." He shakes his head with a bemused frown, "I was too busy looking at you. You're really pretty." He smiles shyly and I bow my head, biting my lip nervously.

"Thank you." I take a deep breath, thinking of a courtesy compliment, "You're pretty cute, yourself."

"Thanks." He chuckles, looking down at his menu, "I like the look of the knickerbocker glory. I hope it's big."

"Good call." I nod, "I think I'll just get a cake pop with a coffee." A shrug, and he nods.

"No problem." He waves over the perky waitress, ordering for both of us and handing her the menus. "So, do you think maybe you wanna do this again?"

"Yeah, maybe." I smile, "We'll have to work out when though, I have a pretty busy schedule."

"Well, that's no problem." He shrugs, care-free, "We could go rock-climbing next time maybe."

No.

"Yes. Maybe. That would be fun." I nod, and he grins.

"You know, I don't think I've ever met somebody that I've had such a connection with so quickly." He shakes his head in disbelief. I nod silently, unable to think of anything to say. He reaches across the table to clap my hand in his and I resist the urge to pull my hand away. His hand is too hot, and his palm a little clammy.

"I mean, I know it's sudden and everything but I mean it. You're an amazing girl, and…you're so beautiful, I can barely believe you're sat here with me." He grins, raising his eyebrows happily. "I think this could be the start of something amazing." He gives my hand a squeeze, and I nod.

Okay, say something. Right now, think of something to say. Come on, Quinn.

I'm saved by the appearance of the over-enthusiastic waitress, who places our desserts in front of us, her huge grin still in place. How come her face doesn't hurt?

"That looks amazing!" I enthuse, pointing to his dessert. He nods, taking a deep breath before plunging his spoon into the whipped cream on top.

"So, another date? I was thinking maybe next week, if you're free?" He raises his eyebrows hopefully and I give him a slow nod, plunging my cake pop into my coffee.

"Um, I think there's some dates I'm free. I'd have to check my diary." I bluff with a shrug, but he shakes his head.

"Oh that's no problem, go ahead." He gestures with his hand as he collects a huge spoonful of ice cream and sauce.

"Oh. Um, I don't actually have my diary with me right now, sorry. I'll have to check when I get home."

"Okay, that's fine." He grins, "Well, I'll just give you a call tomorrow. I was thinking maybe Thursday? I could be working pretty late Monday to Wednesday, and Friday I have plans with a friend."

"Yeah, maybe Thursday." I shrug non-committally, and his face falls.

"You don't really want to date me, do you?" He asks miserably, and my jaw drops.

"What? No, of course I do! In fact, I will call you to arrange a date, although I do think I'm free Thursday." I nod enthusiastically and he smiles, looking insecure, before nodding.

There is no way on this earth I am being free on Thursday.

"Really? So you'll call me?" Finn checks, watching me hopefully. He's now halfway through his knickerbocker glory, and I'm silently begging him to eat faster. This date has gotten super-weird, super-fast.

I nod quickly, "Yes. I will call you tomorrow."

"Cool." He grins, shoving a large spoonful in his mouth. I finish my cake pop, gently placing the used stick on my saucer and taking a sip of my coffee.

"So, what family do you have?" I ask politely as he stuffs his face.

"Just my mom." He tells me through a mouthful of ice cream, "My dad was in the army. He went off to fight and never came back."

My brow furrows in sympathy, and I feel my heart contract, "Oh my God. I'm so sorry, that's awful."

"Eh." He shrugs, "It was a really long time ago now. I was just a kid. It was hard sometimes but, you know, time heals all wounds and all that. What about you?" He smiles politely, scooping another huge spoonful.

"Yes, I'm also an only child. I don't really talk to my parents. At all." I confess with a nervous laugh, and he frowns.

"Oh? How come?"

"Well, they just wanted very different things to what I wanted for myself. My father was,_ is_, very controlling. And my mother was weak. I didn't want what he wanted, and he didn't like that." I shrug simply, "It's no big deal. I'm actually a lot happier without them."

"That's sad." He comments, his brows knitted together in sympathy.

"No, not really." I shake my head, nonplussed, "They were really negative people, and now Rachel and Santana are my family, and Rachel's dads are like fathers to me. Better fathers than my dad ever was." I joke, but Finn just shakes his head solemnly.

"You really should try to reconnect with your parents. I would be lost without my mom." He shakes his head incredulously, "You know, life's too short."

Oh, I should have said my aunt's legs were amputated by chopper blades.

"Yeeeah, no." I shake my head, "You would be lost without your mom because she's a good mom and you love her. I'm not lost without my parents. I'd be lost without Santana and Rachel, and her dads. But as it stands, I'm good."

"Well, each to their own." He shrugs, practically rolling his eyes, and my jaw clenches. He finishes his dessert and scrapes out the glass with his long spoon before throwing his spoon down with a clatter and leaning back, sighing contentedly.

"Okay, shall we get the bill?" I smile politely and although he seems slightly shocked, he nods.

"Oh, yeah. Yeah of course." He waves to the teenage boy and requests the bill. The waiter rolls his eyes and slopes off to the till, returning quickly with the bill.

Finn reaches out to take it and I search in my bag for my purse, "How much does it come to?" I ask as he lifts himself off the seat to access his wallet.

"What?" He frowns, and I point to the bill, "Oh, no. You're not paying. Don't worry, I got this." He smiles and although I know he's attempting to be charming, it comes off as slightly condescending, and I shift uncomfortably.

"Are you sure? I don't mind paying my half."

"No, of course not. I'm a gentleman." He grins and I nod, smiling politely.

"Well, thank you."

Finn places some notes down on the table and pushes himself off the seat. I pull the strap of my bag over my shoulder and follow suit, grabbing my jacket and pulling it on as we leave the diner. I thank the chirpy waitress as we leave, and Finn waits for me on the pavement outside.

"So I'm going this way." He jerks a thumb over his shoulder, and I tut, acting disappointed.

"Oh, I'm going the other way, I'm sorry." I shrug, and he shakes his head.

"No, it's okay, don't worry." He smiles shyly, "So, you'll call me tomorrow?"

"Yes. I will. Tomorrow." I nod, and he grins.

"Cool. So, I've had a great time."

"Me, too."

Oh no. He's leaning in. Well, he's practically bending double, but he's leaning in. Can Santana ring me now? His eyes are closing. He's pouting. Wow, he looks weird like that. Do I have time to text Santana?! Argh.

I purse my lips, attempting not to grimace as Finn places a kiss on my lips. It's a little too wet and last a few awkward seconds too long. Finn's eyes are still closed as I glance around, wondering when it would be polite to pull away, and hoping to God that he doesn't try opening his mouth or using his tongue.

He places his hands on my hips, and I bring my hands up to his chest, placing them flat before pushing gently, and taking a step back.

"I had a great time tonight." He repeats, gazing down at me, and I nod awkwardly.

"Yes. Same."

"So, I'll talk to you tomorrow."

"Yup."

"Good night."

"Good night, Finn." I take a step back as he stands stock-still.

"Talk to you later."

"Bye." I take another step back as he begins to wave.

"It was nice meeting you."

I cover a sigh as I take another step back, "You, too."

"See you later!" He calls, still standing in front of the diner as I turn to walk down the street, waving behind me once more before striding off down the street.

I wonder how far it is to walk to the next subway stop. I actually need to go to the next one along, but that was the direction Finn was walking and I don't think I could take another minute of being told how wonderful I am and how much fun he had and will I definitely call him tomorrow?

Okay, so Finn was a nice guy. He was a sweet boy, but we had nothing in common and yeah, _maybe_ he was a little over-bearing. But you know, I could have had a much worse first date. As for poking my toe into the dating pool, it wasn't a total disaster. I mean, at least he was a nice guy, who made me laugh. I don't feel like the night was a total waste, so we'll call that a success.

Although if Rachel asks, it was completely awful. Everything about it was terrible.

I don't need her gloating in my life.


	5. Chapter 5

_Hello! Again, thank you to everyone whose been reading and especially those who have reviewed. I really appreciate the feedback, and hope you all enjoy this chapter :D_

* * *

**Eyes, burning a way through me. Overwhelm, destroying so sweetly. Now, there is a fire within me. A fire that burns. This fire is out of control – **_**Franz Ferdinand, This Fire**_

"So, how was it?" Rachel demanded. Quinn had only just answered the phone, and she rolled her eyes as she was ambushed by the girl's question.

"Wow. That was almost four seconds before you asked. I think that's a record!" The blonde replied sarcastically, popping a grape into her mouth.

"Ha ha. You're hilarious. How was your date?" She rushed, and Quinn sighed, picking up the box of grapes and carrying them over to her desk.

"It was…fine." Quinn replied, shrugging one shoulder, "He was nice."

"Oh, come on! I want more details than that and I'm due at rehearsals in ten minutes!" She sighed exasperatedly, but Quinn's eyes grew wide.

"You have a rehearsal today? Will Finn be there?" She asked, panicking as she perched on the edge of her desk.

"Yes he will. Why?" Rachel crooned, "Was your date _so_ awesome that you are _overcome_ with butterflies in your stomach at the mere mention of his _name_? That's so sweet."

"No." Quinn replied bluntly, "No it was not. It was a nice date, he was funny enough and I had an okay time. But that's it. We didn't have anything in common, Santana pretended my aunt was in a helicopter crash, I lied about being a rock-climber, he lectured me about my parents, we kissed, I made a half-an-hour detour to get home so I could avoid him." She finished her list with an impatient sigh, before quickly adding, "Oh, if he asks you about my rock-climbing, I go free-soloing with the crack technique, and you don't know where. Just don't ask."

"My word." Rachel exclaimed quietly, sounding half-horrified and half-amazed. "That sounds like a _very_ eventful date."

Quinn paused thoughtfully, popping another grape into her mouth, "No, actually. Surprisingly boring."

"Well that's a shame. I'm sorry he turned out to be such a disappointment. Still, you enjoyed yourself!" Rachel replied brightly, "He just wasn't the right guy!"

"Yeah, maybe." The blonde shrugged non-committally, "I don't know."

"What's wrong?" Rachel asked, her tone softer, "I know that voice."

"I just think, can I call it a day now? I just spent the whole evening wishing I was at home in my pyjamas. I promised one date, that was my one date!"

"You said yourself it wasn't that bad." Rachel reasoned kindly, "You _can _never date again, if you want. But how do you know that the next guy isn't the _perfect _guy?"

"There's a next guy?" Quinn asked incredulously, her jaw dropping. As Rachel hummed and squirmed, she took the opportunity to throw a grape into the air and catch it in her open mouth.

"Well, I mean…not really. If you want to, then there could be. But there isn't, I mean-"

"You've already found another guy, huh?" Quinn interrupted, and Rachel fell silent.

"Well, it's not like I actively sought him out." She admitted quietly, and Quinn rolled her eyes.

"Fine. One more. But do _not _line up another guy for me! If I hate this one, I am done. Okay?" She raised her eyebrows impatiently, and Rachel sighed before replying.

"Okay. I promise." She vowed, and Quinn breathed a sigh of relief.

"So who's the next one?" She asked reluctantly, and Rachel squealed with excitement.

"Right. His name is Sam. He's a little geeky, but he's a really sweet guy. And I figured you're kind of geeky so…maybe it'll be perfect?" She grinned down the phone, and Quinn sighed.

"Geeky. Okay." She nodded, "Send me a picture of him, send me his number or whatever and I'll arrange a date with him. Can I go work now?"

"Yes. Yes. I'll send you a picture straight away! Okay, have a nice day. I'll see you later love you bye!" She hung up before the blonde could reply, and Quinn set down her phone with a bemused eye-roll and a small laugh of disbelief.

Pushing herself off the desk, she turned to sit at it as Barney plodded over to her, nudging her leg until she paid him some attention. As she patted his head and rubbed behind his ear, she reached up with the other hand to flick on her overhead light. Once Barney was placated, she gave her work her full attention, remaining there for hours, unmoving.

In general, her day-to-day routine was cast in stone. Aside from a minor distraction here and there –Santana interrupting with a hair-cut or Rachel calling to arrange a date, to name a couple – her routine went unchanged. She woke up and either carried Barney downstairs or met him there; made herself breakfast, which would eventually go ignored; turn on her light and sort her tools and tasks for the day; work for a few hours; walk Barney when he refused to settle; work some more; make dinner; watch TV; go to bed; complete a level of her puzzle app; bedtime stretch routine; sleep. Repeat.

Her phone buzzed repeatedly beside her whilst she was working, and although she kept meaning to check it, it repeatedly slipped her mind. When she eventually pushed back from her desk and flicked off her overhead light, she stretched out her aching joints and muscles, blinking in what felt like sudden darkness. Barney came bounding over as she greeted him enthusiastically, dropping to her knees and darting about. The huge blonde dog barked happily, growling as she repeatedly pushed his face away, before collapsing on top of him, trapping him under her limbs.

He wriggled and kicked out, and she giggled as she climbed to her feet, rubbing behind Barney's ears as she picked up her phone and made her way to the couch. She yawned as she unlocked her phone and opened her inbox.

_**5 Missed Calls**_

**Santana: What are you doing tonight? How was your perfect date? :P Xx**

**Rachel: Here's that picture, his name is Sam :D xxx**

**Santana: Hey! Don't be boring. I want details! Did you kiss him? Xx**

**Santana: Are you working? I'm bored. Reply. Please. Now. X**

**Santana: I haven't heard from you since last night. Are you dead? Stop ignoring me! **

Rolling her eyes, she purposefully opened Rachel's text first, allowing Santana to stew a little longer. She opened the attached picture, and bit her lip thoughtfully as it loaded. A picture of a blonde boy with stubble, a huge grin and floppy fringe appeared on the screen. She twisted her mouth as she surveyed the photo, tilting her head with the ghost of a smile. He was a good-looking guy, even if his lips were slightly out of proportion. Good bone structure, very boy-next-door.

As she stared down at her phone, there was a rustling noise from the hall outside. Frowning, Quinn dragged her eyes from the phone to the door, and suddenly it burst open. She rolled her eyes as a familiar brunette bustled in.

"Jesus. Christ. I am going to kill you!" A uniform-clad Santana jabbed a finger in her direction as she slammed the door behind her, "How many times do I have to text you and call you before you will answer?"

"In response to your question; I'm not dead." Quinn shook her head, glancing down at the girl's outfit with a small smile before turning back to her phone with an air of resignation.

"Why didn't you pick up your phone?" Santana demanded, crossing to sit beside her and crossing her booted ankles on the table.

"Why did you break into my apartment? _Again?_" The blonde countered, raising an eyebrow.

"I was scared I'd find you in a coma, or chopped up into little pieces by that _Finn_ dude." She replied scathingly, and Quinn chuckled.

"Why would he bring me back to my apartment to kill me?" She mused, and Santana scoffed.

"Well, _you_ could have invited him back here, _then_ he could have-"

"What kind of girl do you think I am?" Quinn interjected, appalled. "And why do _you_ think I didn't answer? I was working."

"So was I, but I'm still capable of using my opposing thumbs for their rightful purpose!" She wiggled her thumbs, imitating texting, and Quinn rolled her eyes, scoffing.

"Well sorry, I had more important things to do than be harassed by you." She chuckled, and Santana rolled her eyes humorously.

"Just be glad I waited until I finished work. I could have had fifty fireman knocking down your door." She sniggered, "Although, I am still on-call for the rest of the night, so I can always harass you if necessary. What are you doing?"

"Rachel just sent me a picture of date number two." She replied, holding up the phone.

"Ooh! Gimme!" Santana grinned excitedly, reaching out and taking the offered phone and staring down at the screen, "Wowza! Hello. He might just be enough to turn you, Fabgay." She stared down at the photo, her jaw hanging open, and Quinn grimaced before snatching the phone back.

"Ew! Stop drooling over my date, you creep. And stop calling me that!" She settled comfortably again, surveying the photo as Santana craned over her shoulder.

"His lips are a little…huge." She commented, twisting her mouth. "Like a vagina. Is that why you like him?"

"Santana!" Quinn scolded, looking disgusted, "Either way, he's still cute. Apparently he's a little geeky though." She informed her, frowning unsurely.

"That's okay, _you're_ a little geeky."

"Why do you and Rachel not get along better?" Quinn mused absent-mindedly as Santana grimaced, disgusted.

"Because she's weird and annoying and…short." Santana replied with a frown, "Why?"

"Oh, nothing." Quinn smiled politely.

"So how come there's already a date number two? What was wrong with Finn?" She asked, raising her eyebrows.

"Ugh, not much. He was _okay_. Clingy. Very forward. Kind of pathetic. Very opinionated." Santana nodded as Quinn gave her the list with a shrug.

"Fair enough, hopefully this Sam guy will be a better catch."

"Yeah, maybe." The blonde nodded vaguely, before taking a breath, "You know what? I'm kind of just not feeling the whole dating thing."

"I know. But tough shit, blondie." Santana replied bluntly, "You're on the market."

"I know." She rolled her eyes, "It's just the whole thing, meeting complete strangers and trying to make small talk. Spending an entire night with them and then having no idea what to do at the end. Do you kiss? Shake hands? Hug?" She raised her hands cluelessly, and Santana nodded sympathetically. Quinn stared at her gravely, "No seriously, tell me. What do you do?"

"Well…" Santana frowned, gazing around the apartment thoughtfully, "I usually just flutter my eyelashes then go back to their place. But I wouldn't advise that for you." She paused, stroking Barney absent-mindedly, "It just depends how you feel. If the idea of hugging them or kissing them freaks you out, don't do it." She shrugged simply, but Quinn frowned.

"But, last night I didn't want to hug Finn when I met him _or _kiss him when I left. I still had to do both." She deadpanned, and Santana grimaced sympathetically.

"Yeah, you get that sometimes. Well, if it's ever _too _much for your comfort zone, kick 'em in the shins then punch 'em in the throat." She told the blonde matter-of-factly, before brightening suddenly, "So when are you seeing this blonde dude?"

Quinn shrugged, "I don't know yet. Rachel sent me his number, I need to arrange it."

"Well then text him. Now." Santana demanded, and Quinn sighed before finding the number and opening a new text.

"What should I say?" She raised an eyebrow at Santana, who hummed thoughtfully.

"Um, 'Hi, it's Quinn. I hear you have some wood for my beaver.' What do _you_ think?" She stared at her incredulously, "Just ask him out."

Quinn's lip curled at her best friend's crude comment, turning her attention to tapping out the text, "Okay, done." She replied triumphantly, grinning and placing the phone on the coffee table. Just as she settled back onto the couch, the phone buzzed.

"Is that him already?" Santana asked incredulously.

"Yeah." Quinn nodded with a nervous chuckle.

**Sam: Yes! Hi! It's great to hear from you :D when are you free this week? I can do tonight, tomorrow or Saturday :D x**

She read the text out to Santana, whose eyebrows shot upwards, "Wow. He sounds…eager."

"There are worse ways to be." The blonde shrugged, "I'm supposed to call Finn tonight, would it be awful to go on a date with another guy instead?"

"No!" Santana scoffed, "But are you really thinking of going tonight?"

"Why not? Is that too forward or something?" She rolled her eyes disgustedly, "Is it some stupid dating rule?"

"No, I just meant that it's already five." Santana replied slowly, staring at Quinn like she was deranged. "You realise there's not really such a thing as 'dating rules'?" She held up air quotes, her eyes narrowed suspiciously.

"Really?" Quinn asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Yeah. Like," She paused thoughtfully, "The whole don't-call-for-three-days or something? Bull shit. If you like someone, call them. They will appreciate it. Simple as that."

"You know, you're super helpful." Quinn replied mock-sincerely, "_Anyway_, I'm supposed to be _trying new things_. Putting myself out there and all that. Why not start with late dates in shady bars with men I don't know?" She gave a small shrug, smiling wryly, and Santana snorted, rolling her eyes.

"Oh, please. He has nice-white-boy written all over him."

"So I _should_ see if he wants a date tonight?" The blonde asked, biting her lip nervously.

"What's that, Barney?" Santana turned to the dog dramatically, "Quinn is stuck down a well of loneliness and spinsterhood?" She turned back to the blonde, her face serious, "Go on the date."

**What were you thinking we could do? I'm free tonight, if it's not too late?**

She read the text out to Santana, who rolled her eyes but refrained from commenting, instead leaning over Barney to grab the TV remote. As the screen lit up, Quinn's phone buzzed in her hand.

**Never too late! How about a drink, say 7? :D x**

"He seems unable to send a text that doesn't include a colon and capital D." Quinn remarked as she typed out her response.

"At least he's…happy." Santana replied, sounding like she couldn't imagine anything worse.

**Okay perfect. Where? X**

He sent back the address of a bar not too far away, and Quinn smiled to herself. "There we go. My date is arranged. I have two hours." She turned to Santana, whose eyes were glued to the screen, "So are you leaving or helping?"

The brunette sighed, turning to look at Quinn reluctantly, "Fine. I'll help."

-oOo-

Almost two hours later, and Quinn was wandering down a street towards the bar where she was due to meet Sam. She had picked out a 'cute-but-casual' outfit with Santana, who had also styled her hair and done her make up for her. She felt more comfortable than when she was going to her date with Finn; mostly because she was wearing her own shoes. Santana had allowed her to wear her least-battered converse with skinny jeans and a Wonder Woman tee under a plain white shirt. Along with her little leather jacket, she was feeling more like herself, and thus more confident.

She slowed as she approached the steps down to the basement bar, unsure of whether to wait for Sam or enter the bar. She hovered, considering sending him a text to ask. _Would that be socially unacceptable?_

"Hey! Quinn?" A voice called from behind her, and she turned to see Sam jogging down the street towards her with a huge grin plastered across his face, "Sorry I'm a little late."

"No, you're not late at all, I was just wondering whether to wait out here or go inside." She gestured over her shoulder with a nervous grin, subtly looking the boy up and down. He was wearing dark jeans and a leather jacket, and she made a mental note to check again when he took off his jacket.

"Well, I'm not one to tell you what to do! But I'd say let's go inside." He grinned, and Quinn gave him a small nod before following him down the steps. He held the door open for her, and Quinn was glad to see that although it was fairly crowded, there was still lots of seating space, and it wasn't too loud. Sam led her to a table, taking her drink order and heading over to the bar. She removed her jacket and settled herself as she waited for Sam to come back.

He deposited their drinks on the table before unzipping his jacket and hanging it on the back of his chair, and Quinn's jaw dropped.

"Oh my God." She chuckled, and Sam glanced up at her with a confused frown. As he noticed her outfit, the boy began giggling, tugging at his shirt. He was wearing dark jeans, a t-shirt with a logo that Quinn recognised as Captain America, covered by a white shirt. She had to deny, he was incredibly well-built. She could see the outline of his muscles through his t-shirt, and deliberately looked up at his face.

"That is ridiculous." Sam grinned as he looked over her outfit.

"Great minds think alike." Quinn shrugged, taking a sip of her drink.

"Or rather, dress alike." Sam chortled as he took his seat, taking a deep breath, "So! Quinn!" He grinned, and she smiled nervously.

"Sam." She replied, holding his gaze. His smile really was infectious.

"Okay, let's do the boring small talk really fast, so we can enjoy the night." He levelled with her, and she nodded in acceptance, "So what do you do?" He asked quickly.

"I'm like a locksmith." She replied in one breath.

"What do you mean _like _a locksmith?" He frowned, still speaking quickly.

"Is this a lightning round?" She asked incredulously, "Am I being timed?" She grimaced and Sam chuckled,

"No. I'm sorry. So, what do you mean _like _a locksmith?" He repeated, speaking deliberately slow.

"I design and build bespoke locks for security systems. It's not very interesting. What do you do?" She raised her eyebrows and Sam smiled, placated by her answer.

"I work in a comic book store." He admitted, "And a bar by night."

"Oh. Cool." Quinn nodded, smiling politely.

"It's not cool. I know it's super geeky." He shook his head but the blonde girl shrugged.

"Each to their own, you obviously like it. So, any brothers or sisters?" She raised her eyebrows, and Sam nodded.

"Both. Little brother and little sister. Both teenagers. The joys." He rolled his eyes exaggeratedly, and Quinn chuckled, "You?"

"Nope, none. Only child."

"Where are you from originally?" He asked.

"Ohio." She replied promptly, "I moved to New York after school, much to my parents' displeasure." She grimaced guiltily, and Sam nodded.

"Tell me about it. My mom rings me nearly every day to check I haven't been mugged." He rolled his eyes.

"Well, thankfully I don't talk to my parents, so I have free reign of the city." She shrugged.

"Fair enough." He nodded, suddenly frowning "So do you want to get some fries to share or something? I'm a little hungry."

"Yeah, I could go for some food. What's taking your fancy?"

"How about the Texan sharing platter?" He raised his eyebrows at her, lifting the menu off its stand to point to the dish. Quinn scanned the description before nodding enthusiastically.

"Sounds perfect!"

"I have a little guilty pleasure though." He admitted guiltily, and she nodded for him to go on, a wry smile playing around her lips, "You see, I really love garlic mayo. Would it be awful if I ordered some for on the side? I know it's a total date faux-pas." She began giggling as he spoke, and by the end of his sentence Sam was chuckling self-consciously.

"No." She shook her head and Sam looked disappointed, "It _is _a total date faux-pas, but I _love_ garlic mayo. Order some. Two lots." She held up her fingers and the boy grinned.

"Awesome! I'll be right back." He jumped off his chair and headed over to the bar. As he did so, Quinn pulled her phone out of her pocket to send a quick text to Santana and Rachel.

**Sam is very nice. Super cute. Wearing the same outfit as me. Xx**

The blonde boy returned before either girl could reply and she quickly shoved her phone back in her pocket.

"Okay, food shouldn't be long." He grinned, "So, what do you do for fun?"

_Do not say rock-climbing._ She reminded herself mentally.

"Um…" She hummed thoughtfully, "You know, mostly I just work. I don't really have that many hobbies because I don't really have much time. You?"

"That's a shame." He remarked, and the girl shrugged, "Well, I'm originally from Florida, and I used to love surfing. I play the guitar-"

"Ooh! I play the guitar!" Quinn interrupted excitedly, before frowning apologetically, "Sorry. I didn't mean to interrupt you. I just, yeah. I play guitar, too."

"What do you know?" Sam shrugged happily, "You _do_ have a hobby. You electric or acoustic?"

"Acoustic. I also have a dog called Barney." She smiled proudly, and Sam's face lit up.

"No way, really? What breed?" He asked excitedly, "I have a huge St. Bernard called Max."

"Awh, that's so cute! Barney is a golden retriever. But, you know, not the smart kind." She shrugged, twisting her mouth awkwardly, and Sam chuckled.

"Yeah, Max has a tendency to run into walls a lot." He replied with a hopeless grimace. "It's more dangerous for the walls than the dog, really." Quinn took another sip of her drink as a waitress appeared with their sharing platter, placing it on the table between them. "Awesome," Sam grinned, "Let's dig in!"

As they ate, Sam asked her more random questions, and eventually Quinn joined in on the vendetta, firing questions back at him.

"What would be your specialist subject on a game show?" He asked, and Quinn grimaced as she considered her answer.

"Probably the works of J.R.R Tolkein. Or Emma Stone movies. Yours?"

"Star Wars. Or Marvel characters." He replied honestly.

"Ability to fly or ability to breathe underwater?" Quinn raised an eyebrow at him.

"Ooooh." Sam sucked air through his teeth as he thought, "Fly. You?"

"Fly." She nodded.

They continued questioning each other for the next half hour, asking everything from their favourites animals – Sam's was a terrapin, Quinn's was Barney – to whether they would rather die by burning or drowning – both said drowning.

At eight o'clock, Quinn noticed a man setting up a microphone at the other end of the room, and frowned.

"What's up?" Sam asked, raising his eyebrows and turning his head to follow Quinn's gaze, "Oh yeah, this is a karaoke bar. We don't have to take part if you don't want to, and if everyone is awful we can always go somewhere else?"

"I don't mind." She replied with a shrug and a polite smile, "Do you get up and sing?"

"Yeah, sometimes when I'm with my friends, you know, we have a few drinks, sing a few stupid songs." He chuckled, "But I promise I won't embarrass us by singing tonight."

"I'm sure you wouldn't anyway." She replied kindly, pausing for a moment, "Can I tell you a secret?"

"Of course you can." He replied with a grin, leaning in conspiratorially.

"I'm supposed to be trying new things. Like, I've only just started dating properly. Because my friends kind of forced me into it." She grimaced self-consciously, "And Rachel wants me to go to this open-mic night thing with her, which I don't know if I'll do. Seems a little scary. But yeah, I'm pushing the boat out."

"Well, I'm glad to be aboard." Sam replied with a grin, "Yeah, I think it's great that you're trying new things. Maybe if more people tried new things, people wouldn't get so bored of life." He shrugged, and Quinn contemplated his reply, nodding quietly. "So, if you're trying new things…" He began, and Quinn snorted.

"I can already feel that it was a bad idea telling you that."

He shrugged cheekily, before comically jerking a thumb over his shoulder in the direction of the small makeshift stage. "Do it."

"No way." She shook her head, taking another, larger, drink.

"Come on! You're trying new things. Have you ever sang karaoke?" He raised his eyebrows and she shook her head reluctantly. "Well then! It's a new thing! You have to do it."

"No I can't! It's too nerve-wracking and awkward. You know, everyone staring at you!" She squirmed in her chair, her shoulders hunched over, but Sam only chuckled, shaking his head.

"No, you have to do it. Overcome your fears! Come on, I won't make you go first. In fact, as long as you perform alone at some point tonight, I'll even sing the first song with you. What do you think?" He grinned hopefully, and Quinn glanced around the bar, sighing heavily as she thought about his offer.

She took a deep breath, finally meeting his eye, "Ugh. Fine. I know I'm instantly going to regret this, but okay. What are we going to sing?"

"I'll go find the book." He grinned, winking before getting up out of his chair and going in search of the song list. She pulled out her phone to find a text each from Santana and Rachel.

**Rachel: Awesome! So glad you like him! Have fun :D xxx**

**Santana: He's wearing women's clothes? I know you're new to dating but hint: that's usually a red flag. Don't do anything I wouldn't do xx**

She rolled her eyes before tapping out another text to send them both.

**I'm going to sing karaoke! What has happened me?**

She hit send, and immediately got a reply from Santana.

**Where?! Can I come? I hope you fall off the stage. And break a leg! ;) get it? Xx**

She rolled her eyes with a snort, and was about to reply when Sam appeared with the song list.

"Okay! What are we singing?" He dragged his chair around to sit beside her, rubbing his hands together before flipping the front cover open, his arm snaking over the back of her chair as she surveyed the list.

They sat making 'oooh' noises and arguing over awesome vs awful songs, until eventually Quinn made a decision.

"Are you sure?" Sam asked, raising his eyebrows.

"Yes. Do you mind this one? I know it's a little…well, totally geeky." She trailed off, grimacing, but Sam shook his head.

"Nope, I'll sing anything. Why that one in particular?" He frowned, and the blonde shrugged.

"I dunno. It's just a song that seems to have a good message right now." She looked at him mysteriously and he gazed back at her for a second before shrugging and nodding his head slowly.

"Okay. Lady's choice it is." Sam snapped the book shut with a triumphant smile, holding his hand up for a high-five before going to put in the request, reappearing a few minutes later. "They will be starting in a few minutes and we're on the list. I'm not sure how far down, but we're on there."

"Perfect." She raised her glass and he tapped his beer bottle against it, taking a swig. Quinn took a large gulp, before realising she had only ordered coke, and needed something stronger. "I'm going to go to the bar, do you want anything?"

"No, no, I'll go." He shook his head, standing up, but she placed a hand on his arm.

"No, really. You already paid for our drinks when we arrived, and I haven't given you anything towards the food yet either." She shook her head, looking guilty, but Sam shrugged.

"Don't be silly. I'm not letting you pay. This is my date, so I am paying. Plus I'm making you do something you _really _don't want to do." He laughed, "So we'll call that payment. What can I get you? Something stronger?"

"You read my mind." She chuckled as she took her seat once again, "Vodka and coke please."

"No problem." He grinned, pausing for a second before leaning in and placing a gentle kiss on her cheek, quickly turning to leave in the direction of the bar.

Quinn's cheeks flushed bright red and her chest contracted as she processed what had just happened. She stared at Sam's broad back as he leaned on the bar waiting to be served, biting her lip. She had to admit, although the date with Finn had turned out to be a bit of a wet fish, this date wasn't going badly at all. Sure, it was a little spooky how alike she and Sam were, but maybe opposites actually_ didn't_ attract? Maybe their similarities were what made them get on so well.

It had to be said, she was enjoying his company, even if the idea of performing karaoke in front of complete strangers was causing a knot of unease in her stomach. Sam returned with their fresh drinks, and Quinn immediately took a large swig.

"Woah, take it easy!" He laughed, sitting down beside her again, "Nervous?"

"A little." She replied tightly, her shoulders tense.

"It'll be awesome I'm sure. Even if you're a terrible singer, which I bet you're not, people just laugh." She grimaced, "_With you. _I mean they laugh with you. You know, it's just a good time, I promise it'll be fine."

"What if I fall off the stage?" She countered, quirking an eyebrow.

"I will catch you." He answered seriously, and she burst out laughing.

"How? What if you're at one end and I'm at the other? You'll be too far away." She pointed out, and Sam narrowed his eyes in thought for a second.

"I will…run over to wherever you're falling, throw myself under you so that at least when you fall, you will have a soft landing." He explained thoroughly and she nodded her head with a grin.

"Fair enough. Maybe I'll throw myself off the stage just to see how quickly you can move." She giggled, and Sam wiggled his eyebrows at her.

"Oh, really? You're gonna throw yourself off the stage just so I throw myself under you?" He winked cheekily, "Seems this date is going better than I thought!"

He raised his eyebrows as she giggled, a blush creeping up her neck, "Oh, shut up." She slapped his arm playfully, bowing her head to hide her blush, and he laughed openly.

"You're cute when you blush." He said quietly, smiling shyly, and she lifted her head with a coy grin.

"Thank you." She nodded gratefully, willing herself not to blush, "You're cute when you make me blush."

Sam grinned, opening his mouth to reply as a voice echoed through the microphone, "_Can Sam and Quinn come to the stage please? Next up we have Sam and Quinn!"_

"It's us!" Sam cheered enthusiastically, standing up with a huge grin and pulling the blonde to her feet. Quinn chewed at the inside of her cheek as Sam pulled her upright, suddenly aware of everyone's eyes on them. This felt like a mistake.

Sam jogged up the steps and onto the stage, and she followed behind reluctantly, accepting the microphone that the DJ handed to her. "_Wow, are you two twins?"_ he joked over the mic, and Quinn squirmed awkwardly, glancing at Sam, who grimaced.

"No, um, we're not." He shook his head at the DJ before turning to Quinn, "Okay. You're going to be awesome. So am I. We're going to have a lot of fun. Just relax, okay?" She nodded silently, her jaw tensed, and Sam reached around her back to rub her shoulders gently, "I'm serious. Relax. Have fun. We're trying new things!" He wiggled his limbs in a silly dance, and Quinn couldn't help but giggle as the music began to play. Sam grinned, taking a step back and collecting his own microphone from it's stand.

"Hey guys!" He waved as the introduction began to play, "This is Quinn. It's her first time, so be nice!" He grinned, sending the girl a quick wink before beginning the song. "I am unwritten, can't read my mind, I'm undefined." Sam began before gesturing to Quinn, who took a shakey breath.

"I'm just beginning, the pen's in my hand, ending unplanned." He voice cracked slightly with nerves, but Sam nodded his head with a grin, and she took another breath to steel her nerves.

"Staring at the blank page before you. Open up the dirty window. Let the sun illuminate the words that you could not find." Sam continued, "Reaching for something in the distance. So close you can almost taste it. Release your inhibitions."

She glanced out at the people in the bar, licking her lips before joining in with Sam for the chorus, "Feel the rain on your skin, no one else can feel it for you. Only you can let it in. No one else, no one else can speak the words on your lips."

Sam pointed at her as he sang the next lines along, "Drench yourself in words unspoken. Live your life with arms wide open."

She giggled as she took over, and Sam spread is arms knowingly as she sang, "Today is where your book begins. The rest is still unwritten."

"Exactly!" He added with a grin, before they launched into the next verse.

The crowd in the bar slowly became more enthusiastic, and Quinn felt herself relax throughout the song, helped by Sam's enthusiastic gestures and dancing. They finished the song with a huge grin on each of their faces, and Sam even rallied the bar into joining in with the last chorus. He forced her into taking a comical bow, and she giggled self-consciously as she obliged, before grabbing Sam's hand and dragging him off the stage.

"Okay, happy now? I did it!" She gestured to the stage as they took their seats one again.

"Yes, you did. And not only did you do it, but you did it well." He congratulated with a nod, raising his hands in the air, and Quinn slapped her own against them with a light-hearted chuckle.

"Okay, I am going to go buy another round." Sam grinned, pushing himself up again and gesturing to her drink, "Same again?"

"Please." She smiled gratefully, watching the boy's retreating back as he crossed to the bar. She considered the idea of a second date as she watched him chatting to the barman, and decided that unless something incredibly weird happened, she would say yes if he asked. This date had been a stark contrast to last night's, and she couldn't deny that she was genuinely enjoying herself. Sam was sweet, and funny, and they had _tons _in common. If anything, they had _too much_ in common. But she wasn't sure if that was possible. Maybe she was being too picky.

The boy collected the drinks from the bar and turned back to Quinn, smiling as he approached the table once more. Just as he had placed their glasses down on the table, a shout from behind the bar distracted their attention, as a chubby man in chef whites pushed his way out of the swinging kitchen door, hurriedly followed by a number of uniformed kitchen workers. The DJ turned the music off as the man began ushering people out.

"Fire! Fire!" The man shouted as he ran from the bar area through the seating. "There's a fire! Everybody out! Everybody! Out! Now!"

Quinn could see flickering flames through the porthole in the kitchen door, and immediately sprang off her seat. She just managed to grab her bag and jacket as Sam grabbed her hand and tugged her in the direction of the door, joining the procession of other customers. Her heart pumping wildly, she followed as Sam shoulder barged through the crowd and pulled her out into the open, hurrying to pull her up the flight of stairs and onto the street.

"Has someone called 911?" A woman was screaming hysterically, but she was soon hushed by a huge, tattooed chef who assured her that he had.

They loitered on the street outside the bar, and Quinn bit her lip as Sam craned over the railing above the steps for a better view. He turned back to Quinn with an apologetic grimace, "Hey, are you alright?"

"Yeah, I think so." She nodded with a wry smile, noting the sound of sirens in the distance.

"I'm sorry. This isn't exactly how I thought this night would end." He chuckled, shaking his head.

"Well, unless you started the fire," She replied with a quirked eyebrow, "I don't really think you're to blame."

"I suppose." He admitted apologetically as the siren noises grew louder, "Still though. I'm sorry our date has been kind of ruined."

"Don't be." She said kindly, placing her hand on his arm as a fire engine pulled up beside them, "Besides, I don't think our date's been rui-"

"Hey! How's it going, Disney-On-Ice?" Rang out a familiar voice behind Quinn, and her heart sank.

"Oh God." She turned on her heel to find Santana stood behind her, the visor of her helmet lifted to reveal her grinning face. She glanced down at the girl's uniformed attire with a bemused half-smile.

"Who'd have thought I'd be seeing you here!" She remarked as she wandered past the couple before shouting at the crowd and pushing her way down into the bar.

"Um, who was that?" Sam asked with a confused frown.

"Oh, um, no-one." Quinn replied absent-mindedly, biting her lip and staring over the railing at the steps as Santana entered the smoky bar, accompanied by two large men carrying a water hose.

"Oh." Sam nodded, "It seemed like she knew you?"

She lost sight of the girl and turned back to Sam, giving her head a shake to focus, "Oh God, I'm sorry. Yes, that's Santana. She's my best friend." Sam nodded slowly, "And, obviously, a firefighter. With an impeccable gift for showing up where she's not wanted."

"I see." Sam replied with a chuckle, "So, you were saying?"

"Um…what was I saying?" She asked, narrowing her eyes as she tried to remember.

"That maybe our date isn't ruined?" He asked hopefully, raising his eyebrows.

"Okay, folks!" Santana's authorative tone rang out as she jogged up the steps to the street, "It's safe to return for any items you may have left behind but please _do not cross _any of the tape boundaries. There may be some fire damage but it seems that most things are absolutely fine. Please don't push or shove, everybody _will_ be allowed back in for their stuff." She waded through the crowd as she instructed them, pausing to answer a few questions before stopping beside Quinn and Sam once again, pulling her helmet off and unzipping her thick jacket.

"Hey, guys!" She greeted with a huge grin, and Quinn's jaw tensed. Santana looked like the cat that had got the cream, and the blonde felt a sense of dread build in her stomach.

"Hi, San." She smiled tightly, and Sam nodded.

"So you must be Sam?" Santana grinned, holding out a gloved hand for him to shake awkwardly, "So how was your night?"

"It was great until you showed up." Quinn replied with a forced smile.

"Well, you're welcome." Santana sarked, rolling her eyes, "You know, I saved you from a firey death just there. You should be thankful!"

"Yeah. You're right." Quinn deadpanned, "Wherever would I be without you?"

Santana sighed impatiently, "Probably still sitting at home eating beef and peanut butter sandwiches." Quinn glared at the brunette, chancing a glance in Sam's direction. She was grateful that Sam was pretending to not be listening.

"So, surely you must be going Santana?" Quinn hinted, raising her eyebrows, but the brunette frowned, shaking her head.

"Uh, no? I'm on call, so actually now I can just go back home, or I'm free for the night." She grinned devilishly, "Wanna go for a drink?"

"Not at all." Quinn replied in a low voice.

"Oh, come on!" Santana pouted playfully, "I've always wanted to go on a date with twins!"

Quinn immediately shushed her, clapping her hand over Santana's mouth and ushering her away from Sam, sending him an apologetic smile. "Will you just shut up and go away?"

"Oh, come on. I'm only messing. Besides, I'm going now anyway." She shrugged, before her expression softened into one of concern, "Are you okay, though?"

"Yeah, why wouldn't I be?" Quinn tilted her head, raising an eyebrow.

"Just checking, you know." Santana shrugged, "There's often a lot of chaos and people pushing and stuff when there's an emergency." She shook her head, "Just checking."

Quinn smiled, nodding gratefully, "Well, thanks. Anyway, I'd better go…finish my date?"

"Oh yeah, how's it going?" Santana asked excitedly, glancing over the blonde's shoulder at Sam, who was shifting his weight awkwardly.

"It's been great, yeah. We have a lot in common," She shrugged, but Santana cut her off.

"Yeah, I'm not surprised. Standing with you two is like being on the Sims. He's like the male version of you." She frowned, looking slightly disturbed, and Quinn rolled her eyes.

"Whatever, so we accidentally wore the same. Like it matters, we have a lot in common. He's really sweet."

"Yeah, that's because he's _you!_" Santana replied adamantly with a gentle chuckle, and Quinn snorted before nodding her head.

"Yeah, a little."

"Anyway, go have fun." Santana nudged the blonde with the top of her helmet, "I'll see you later."

"See ya!" Quinn called as the brunette turned away, and she turned back to Sam with a smile. "Hey, I'm so sorry about that! She's a little…over-bearing."

"It's no problem." Sam replied with a tight smile, "She's one of a kind, huh?"

"Yeah…" Quinn drawled, "It's never a good thing when people say that is it?"

"Not really." Sam admitted bluntly.

"It's like when people says 'she's a character'. It's not a compliment." She chuckled, shaking her head.

"No." He agreed with an apologetic grimace, "Anyway, so I think any chance we had at salvaging the rest of our night has, you know, kind of been, a little-"

"It's died." Quinn finished for him, and the boy nodded firmly.

"Pretty much."

"Yeah. I was having a great night until the fire though, you know. And even then, it was still pretty good until Santana showed up. She's kind of the kiss of death. I'm sorry."

"Don't be." He replied easily, "Really, it's fine. Just, I dunno…maybe this is a sign." He jerked a thumb in the direction of the basement bar, and Quinn nodded her agreement.

"Yeah, maybe the universe is telling us something. But you know, I did have a lovely evening." She replied brightly, and Sam nodded.

"Yeah, it was great hanging out with you." He paused for a moment, looking indecisive. Finally, he took a deep breath, "Is it just me or are we spookily alike?"

"Yes. Yes we are." Quinn giggled, nodding her head. She was silent for a second, before deciding to be brave, "And is it just _me, _or was this a really nice date, where we got along really well and had great fun…but there was no real spark?"

"I am so glad you've said that." Sam replied honestly, shaking his head and breathing a sigh of relief, "I thought there was something wrong with me! I mean, you're a really great girl, and you're gorgeous and funny and I've had a great time. But yeah, you're right. It was kind of like being on a date with myself. But prettier."

Quinn chuckled, nodding with resignation, "Yeah, precisely. It just felt a little more like we were friends, than anything romantic." Sam nodded, and she took a deep breath, "Ah well, I suppose you win some you lose some. At least we had fun."

"Yeah, definitely. And at least we were both honest. I appreciate that." He nodded, shoving his hands into his pockets.

"So, thank you for a lovely evening. And for getting me to sing karaoke." Quinn thanked him with a grin.

"Yeah, it's no problem. I'm gonna go back in for my jacket so…I guess I'll see you around and stuff." He shrugged, gesturing over his shoulder, and Quinn nodded.

"Yeah, cool. I'll see you later." She smiled, standing on her tip-toes to give the boy a hug, before turning to head down the street,

"Oh, and Quinn?" He called after her, standing at the top of the steps. She turned back, raising her eyebrows, and Sam gave her a huge grin, "Promise me you'll keep trying new things?"

She smiled, pausing thoughtfully before nodding, "Yeah. Okay. I promise."

He gave a nod of acceptance, raising two fingers to his temple in a salute, before jogging down the steps. She chuckled, shaking her head, and took a breath before turning on her heel and heading home.

* * *

_In case anybody wants to know, the song in this chapter is Natasha Bedingfield - Unwritten :)_


	6. Chapter 6

**I've had the same jeans on for four days now, I'm gonna go to a disco in the middle of the town. Everybody's dressing up, I'm dressing down – **_**The View, Same Jeans**_

"Hey, Quinn! Come on in." Leroy greets me with a wide smile, "How was your date?"

"Um, better than the previous one." I consider with a nod, "So how's my little Barn-door been?"

"Awful, as always." He says mock-seriously as I enter the living room and Barney runs up to greet me, "Hey, Hiram. Hey Mr Barn-Door." I kiss Barney's head and rub his ears furiously, and he stretches his mouth wide to grin at me, "Have you been a good boy?"

"Quinnie, hey." He grins, folding his newspaper to give me his full attention, "How was the date?"

"It was…okay." I shrug, "He was a really nice guy. Almost the perfect guy, actually." I perch on the arm of one of the sofa's as Leroy takes his place beside Hiram. Barney jumps up onto the sofa, rubbing his head against my leg.

"So you'll see him again?" Hiram asked excitedly, his eyebrows shooting upwards.

"No, sadly." I twist my mouth awkwardly and Leroy raises an eyebrow, "He was a really nice guy he was just…_very much _like me. Too much like me." I grimace uneasily and Hiram's eyes narrow.

"What do you mean? Isn't that a good thing?"

"Yeeaah, no." I shake my head firmly, "He was blonde, had a large dog, played guitar, loved garlic mayo and _best of all,_ we wore the same outfit." I finish conclusively, and the two men grimace.

"Yeah, I suppose that _is_ a little much." Leroy agrees.

"Well, I'm sure Rachel will have another guy lined up for you in no time!" Hiram adds brightly, and I attempt to look optimistic.

"Yeah…I'm sure she will."

"Maybe you should try online dating!" Leroy suggests, pointing a finger in the air.

"Hmm." I nod slowly. Frankly, I can't imagine anything worse. It's bad enough having Rachel setting me up with every Tom, Dick and Harry that she finds, never mind having said Tom, Dick and Harry trawling through my profile and judging me.

Plus, imagine if nobody was willing to date me; Santana would have a field day.

-ooOoo-

Okay. It is 9:30 am and I am still in bed.

I've decided that even if my date with Sam didn't work out, I can't deny that I had fun. So maybe there's more appeal to this dating thing than I initially realised. I've woken up today with a renewed sense of vigour. I was supposed to be trying new things, and last night I tried something new. And it felt good. So then why the hell not try some other new things?

I'm not saying that Rachel and Santana were right, but maybe there _is _more to be said for dating and meeting new people and trying new things. So I decided to have a sleep in. And sure, it's only been half an hour and I'm already itching to go downstairs, but not every new thing I try can be a success. I've also decided that this evening, I'm taking Rachel up on her offer to take part in the open mic night. I might even invite Santana along for moral support, provided that she pinky-promises not to heckle me. Or throw rotten fruit. And don't act sceptical, it wouldn't be the first time.

Okay, my sleep-in has officially lasted long enough; now I'm just getting bored. I throw back the covers and turn to sit on the edge of the bed, stretching out all of my limbs before picking up a ripped t-shirt and long jean-shorts off the floor. I beckon Barney and follow him down the staircase in my bare feet, heading straight to the kitchen to pour myself a bowl of cereal. Carrying the full bowl over to the sofa, I settle myself and prop my feet up on the coffee table, pulling out my phone and scrolling to Rachel's number.

"Hey, Quinn. What's up?" She answers brightly; I can hear busy traffic in the background.

"Not much, I was just wondering if your offer was still open for that open mic tonight?" I ask through a mouthful of chocolate granola.

"Oh my God, really?" She asks excitedly.

"Yup."

"That's amazing! Well of course you're welcome!" I can hear her grinning, and a flutter of excited butterflies swarm in my stomach, "Oh by the way, how was your date?" She asks, attempting to sound casual. I roll my eyes.

"It was okay. We had a lot in common and he was a nice guy but…I dunno. We had _too_ much in common and then there was a fire, Santana turned up and made it super-awkward." I shake my head with a shrug, "We just called it a night."

"…You…have…_the most _eventful dates I have ever heard of." Rachel stutters disbelievingly.

"Really?" I ask, jumping on her comment immediately, "I _did _wonder if it was just me, or if dating is always so…hectic."

"Nope, just you." She answers bluntly. I'm not sure whether I'm pleased or not. I can think of better ways to be unique.

"So I'm good to come tonight?"

"Of course you are!" She enthuses, "I'll come to your apartment at around seven and take you from there?"

"Cool, sounds good."

"So – if you don't mind my asking – what's brought all this on?" There's an edge of confusion to her voice, and I take a considered breath before replying.

"Even though it didn't work, I had a nice time with Sam. And I realised that…maybe I _am _missing out. On life." I reply self-consciously, and there's a thoughtful pause before Rachel answers.

"I see. Well, I'm glad you've come to that conclusion, hopefully embracing new experiences will pay off." She chuckles, and I bite my lip with a smile.

"Yeah, hopefully. Oh, would it be okay if I invited Santana tonight? You know, moral support?" Rachel takes a deep breath, and I hurry to continue, "I know she's a little mean sometimes, but I'll make her promise to be nice."

"Of course you can!" She replies brightly, although it sounds fake, and I grimace guiltily, "Yeah don't worry about it. I'm sure it'll be fun."

"Cool. Thanks, Rach."

"No, don't be silly. It's cool. So, I'll see you at seven?" She checks.

"Perfect." I nod, my chest tightening with nerves as I realise the magnitude of what I've taken on.

"Okay, see you later."

"Bye." I croak out, dropping my phone beside me as soon as she hangs up.

I finish my cereal, depositing the bowl on the coffee table and turning to Barney, ruffling his ears, "So…that's it. I'm really doing it." His eyebrows twitch, and I nod enthusiastically, "I know, right? It's crazy. And I'm taking Santana. What is wrong with me?" He shifts about, resting his head on my leg, and I sigh, "Thanks, pal. You always know what to say." I smile down at him, bending over to kiss his head before easing my leg out from under his head and escape to my desk.

Crossing my legs in my big comfy office chair, I sit back and open a new message on my phone.

**Hey, wanna see me do open mic tonight? Xx**

I deposit my phone on the desk, but it vibrates loudly before I can continue. Santana's name is flashing on the screen and I take a deep breath, rolling my eyes and reaching for the phone.

"Hel-"

"What the fuck?" Santana demands down the phone, and I can hear random hustle and bustle in the background.

"What?" I ask, resigned, "And what is all that noise?"

"Oh, sorry. I'm at a house fire." A loud, foaming sound echoes through the phone, and I frown.

"What are you doing?"

"Putting out a fire, duh." She replies thickly. I know she's rolling her eyes.

"And you're on your phone?" I ask incredulously.

"Eh." She grunts, "I'm managing. This is more important anyway. You're doing an open mic night? What the fuck?"

"What's so crazy about that?" I ask, offended.

"Um, apart from your debilitating agoraphobia when it comes to music performances?" She sarks, and I bite my lip.

"I'm trying new things." I reply, as if that's an explanation. I realise that my defence is weak, and she gives a snort of derision.

"Okay. Well, I'm in. I would never pass up the chance to watch you make an ass of yourself, on a stage, in front of a room full strangers." She sounds smug, and once again, I regret calling her.

"You are so supportive." I deadpan, and she chuckles.

"Either way, I'll come. I'm sure you'll be awesome." She speaks quickly, and for a moment I consider whether being nice actually causes her physical pain, "Okay, I have to go. Where is it?"

"I don't know, Rachel is meeting me at my apartment at seven and we're going from there." I reply, wincing in anticipation.

"_Ugh!_" She exclaims loudly, "You didn't tell me the mentally unstable outcast of the lollipop guild is going."

"Why does it matter? It'll be absolutely fine, you just have to be nice." I reply brightly, but she tuts.

"Now, come on, Q. Don't set unrealistic expectations or I'll just let you down." She says seriously, and I nod thoughtfully.

"Yeah, you're right. But can you at least try?" I whine, "For me? And my newfound courage to try new things? Prompted by you and your infinite wisdom." Flattery is always the way.

Santana sighs dramatically, "Fine. Yours at seven."

"Thank you!" I grin, "Bye for now, enjoy extinguishing your house fire!"

I hang up and place the phone back on the desk before I reach up to switch the light on and begin working. My mind wanders as I work, making a mental list of songs to sing at my open mic set, while a mass of nerves and nausea builds in my stomach.

-oOo-

There's a knock at the door, and I crane my neck over my shoulder to call out, "It's open!" A soft click follows, and the door swings open to reveal Rachel. Barney rushes over to greet her, and I watch with a smile as she coos over him before making herself at home on the sofa, "I'm just finishing getting ready." I call over the balcony, and she nods.

"Okay, no problem."

I stand in my bra and jeans, staring from the clothes on my bedroom floor to the ones in my wardrobe. After a few seconds of contemplation, I decide against anything that is currently situated on the floor, as I have no idea what is clean and what has been worn. As I narrow down my options to three t-shirts, the door swings open once again.

"Hey, San! Come in. Make yourself at home." I greet sarcastically, and she rolls her eyes.

"Whatever, it was open!" She shrugs, "Jeez, you have no right to complain."

"Could have knocked." I raise an eyebrow.

"Could have put a shirt on." She counters.

"I'm deciding what to wear." I defend, with a thoughtful grimace.

"Something that won't go see-through if people throw drinks at you." She replied helpfully.

"Supportive as always, Santana." Rachel smiles politely from the sofa, and Santana's lip curls.

"Berry." She replies shortly, moving to sit on the bottom stair, despite there being plenty of space on the sofa beside Rachel.

I finally decide on the rest of my outfit, pulling on the various garments before jogging down the stairs, giving Santana a soft kick as I pass. Rachel turns round to kneel, her forearms resting on the back of the sofa.

"That's what you're wearing?" Santana asks, and I can't quite detect her tone.

"Yes." I look down at my outfit. I'm wearing beige skate pants with a red t-shirt and a denim shirt, finished with a straw fedora and my favourite comfiest skate shoes. I figure I'd be best dressed in something I'm comfortable with. "What's wrong with it?"

"Well…" Santana shrugs, "Nothing really. I mean, you obviously like it, and sure, _I_ think it looks cute," I frown, "but don't you want to maybe…dress up a little?"

"Yeah, what if there's guys there?" Rachel asks in a small voice.

"Look, tonight is not about guys." I reply plainly, and Santana sniggers, "It's about me, and doing something I already enjoy, but doing it in front of people. It's not about meeting someone, so can we all give it a rest for the night?"

"Of course." Rachel replies, nodding with a sincere smile. Santana sighs heavily.

"Fine." She agrees begrudgingly, and I nod, placated. "Although I still think drunk people should be your target market."

I heave a case into Santana's arms in retaliation, before picking up two instrument cases of my own, "Okay then, I'm good." I smile from girl to girl before following Rachel out of the apartment, Santana trailing after me.

We eventually reach the bar Rachel was talking about, and Santana goes to find a table while Rachel introduces me to the manager. He informs me of where I can leave my instruments and tells me that I'll be the second person to perform that night. Rachel is on immediately after me, and then there's another two acts to perform. I nod diligently as he feeds me the information, biting my lip as a bubble of panic rises through my whole body. The small brunette at my side beams as he talks, before turning to a barman to order drinks. When he's done, I smile politely, tell him I'm looking forward to it, even though that is a huge lie, and leave my cases by the stage, before returning to help Rachel carry the drinks to the table.

"So what's happening?" Santana asks, accepting the beer in my hand with a grateful nod.

"I'm on second. Then Rachel." I'm glad I don't have to perform after my best friend. Even Santana can't deny the girl's talent, and I pity the two acts that _do _have to follow her. I glance to the stage as I sit in the booth between the two girls, my fingers drumming nervously on the table as Santana and Rachel sit in awkward silence. A young man with dark, curly hair is setting up his microphone and equipment on the stage, and I assume he's the act that will open the night.

"So…" Rachel begins, but apparently doesn't think of anything to say in time. Santana scoffs quietly, rolling her eyes, and I notice Rachel's cheeks pink. Nudging her with my elbow, I give Santana a look that I hope says 'be nice'. She grimaces comically, as if growling, but I can see the humour in her eyes and permit her a small smile.

"So, I'm nervous." I say brightly, hoping to start a conversation.

"Don't be." Rachel hurries to reassure me, "Everyone is always really nice, I've literally never seen them boo anybody."

"First time for everything." Santana adds absent-mindedly, taking a swig of her drink.

"Again. Helpful." I nod sharply, and she shrugs.

"Fine. I'm sure you'll be great, Q. You've been playing and singing since you were like sixteen. We've both heard you and we both know you're good. So just relax."

"Be yourself." Rachel nods helpfully.

"Only less of a dick." The other girl adds seriously, and I look back to the stage, taking a deep breath to steel my nerves as the curly haired boy begins introducing himself.

"Hello, everyone!" He beams, "As some of you may know, my name is Blaine Anderson. I'll be singing and…playing some piano this evening, and I hope you all enjoy." He claps his hands together, giving a small nod of his head before turning his back and taking his place at the piano.

We sit in polite silence as he runs through his various covers, throwing in the occasional original song. His own songs are not quite as smooth as the covers, with a slightly amateur tone to them, but he definitely has talent, and the nerves in the pit of my stomach begin twisting and coiling like snakes. Rachel notices my vaguely sickly expression, and covers my hand with her own as Blaine belts out a Tom Jones cover. Santana looks confused as she glances around the bar, her eyes narrowed.

"Hey, are you alright?" Rachel asks in a low voice, her brow furrowed.

"Is this a hobbit bar?" Santana questions suspiciously, "This dude looks like Berry's hobbit twin."

"I'm fine." I nod, ignoring the brunette at my side, attempting to give Rachel a smile.

"You know you don't actually have to do this if you don't want to, don't you?" She tilts her head at me, and I start to nod. Santana, however, has tuned in to our conversation, and she shakes her head.

"Well, you don't _have _to. But all your shit is now next to the stage, so good luck getting all of that out without drawing attention to yourself." She remarks absent-mindedly, her gaze trained back on the stage.

I turn my head slowly to face her, staring at her incredulously. Rachel matches my expression, although she looks much more horrified than I am.

"I'm sure you'll be fine." Rachel adds kindly, giving my hand a squeeze. I nod unconvincingly, as Blaine addresses the audience once again.

"Okay, so this is my last song, and then I'll be handing you over to the fabulous Quinn Fabray!" The audience applauds, and I feel my stomach drop down into the soles of my sneakers. How does he know my name? Am I supposed to introduce Rachel as well? Oh God, I'm so under-prepared.

"He'll have already seen the running order. Don't worry." Rachel nods, as if reading my mind. I turn to look at her, my eyebrows raised, and she shrugs, "And you don't have to introduce me if you don't want to. But you can."

"Thanks." I nod, turning back to the stage with a deep breath. Blaine launches into an acoustic piano version of a Pink song, but I can barely hear him as the rushing of blood in my ears reaches deafening volumes.

He finally finishes, takes a bow, and exits the stage, however I am rooted to my seat.

"Okay, gay 'bray." Santana nods, "You're up."

I take a deep breath, staring at the stage, and Rachel gives me a small shove, "Come on, Quinn. You're going to great. Go ahead."

I'm standing. Why am I standing? I'm walking. Oh God. I'm walking in the wrong direction. Why am I walking _towards _the stage? I want to leave.

The volume levels in the bar rise as people begin talking and laughing once again, and a number of people went to the bar to buy more drinks. I was told by the manager that I had as much time as I needed to set myself up, and so I head straight for my cases.

-o-

"So…Santana." Rachel smiled awkwardly, looking to the taller brunette, whose head turned slowly to face her with an expression of patient disgust.

"Berry." She replied bluntly, and Rachel's smile tightened, "What do you want?"

"Well…" She shrugged, "Quinn's gone to set up. Just the two of us." She nodded uncomfortably. Santana stayed silent. With a self-conscious giggle she began to sing, "We can make it if we try-"

"Don't." Santana cut her off sharply. The other girl was immediately silenced, nodding obediently.

"So...tell me about yourself then." Rachel attempted once more, shrugging helplessly. Santana raised a bored eyebrow.

"Really?" She asked in a groan.

"Well, we're both such good friends with Quinn." Rachel explained, tilt her head, "Maybe it would be nice to know more about each other."

"Okay…" Santana shifted to face Rachel, her demeanour changing as she glanced upwards thoughtfully, taking a deep breath, "Well, in West Philadelphia, I was born and raised." She replied seriously, and Rachel's eyebrows rose with interest as she nodded slowly, "I suppose, on the playground was where I spent most of my days." Santana shrugged. Rachel gave a small chuckle as she listened to the other girl, explaining openly, "You know, just…chilling out, maxing, relaxing all cool." She rolled her eyes self-deprecatingly, "Shooting some… 'b-ball' outside of the school."

"Hold on a minute." Rachel frowned, her eyes narrowing, "Isn't this a song?"

"What are you talking about?" Santana raised an eyebrow in confusion, her lip curling slightly, "A song?" She shook her head, "Well anyway, long story short; I had to move to Ohio and earned myself the nickname the Fresh Prince." She turned away suddenly as Quinn hooked her guitar strap over her head and shoulder on the stage, rolling her eyes, "You're a moron, Berry."

"I knew it!" She spat back, feeling conned and disgruntled, "Well _you're_…rude!" Santana snorted as Rachel crossed her arms tightly across her chest, looking to the stage petulantly.

-o-

A few minutes later, once I've plugged my guitar in to the amp and my pedals, I clear my throat under my breath and step up to the microphone. The bar immediately settles down, and I take a deep breath and attempt to smile.

"Hey there." I grin nervously, "My name is Quinn. And I'm going to play some songs for you. Hopefully without making an ass of myself." I grimace self-deprecatingly, and the audience chuckles. That's a relief. Ice: broken.

I take a deep breath, blowing it out in a long, calming stream before choosing my song. I begin tapping out the beat on the body of my guitar, pressing a few pedals with my foot so that the beat continues as I start strumming the chords.

"_Listen to my heart as it beats for you, and it's telling you the things that I never could. And it's laying it down on the line for you_." I glance up and meet Santana's eye, and she gives me a cheeky wink, "_And the years are catching up, I can see it on your face. And the days of being young and free, are left there with the memories that blow in the wind.  
_  
"_And I can feel it coming when the Monday morning blues, they last all through the week, I feel it on Sunday, too. And I can feeling it coming when my knees feel weak, and I cannot speak the truth._" I look to Rachel, and find her leaning forwards with her elbows on the table, her chin in her hands. She gives me a reassuring nod, and I take a breath to steel myself as I launch into the chorus.

"_The days of being young, the days of being free. They're etched upon my face in every light that you see. The stories I could tell, the lies are told as well. What I wouldn't give to live it all again."_

The rest of the night seems to go by in a blur. As I finish my first song, Santana sneaks up to the stage to deposit my glass on the edge. I nod gratefully, leaning down to pick it up and take a sip. I don't realise how dry my mouth feels until I drink, and once I do I'm incredibly grateful.

The bar is applauding, and I take a moment to take in the magnitude of what I have just done. I'm relieved that I didn't think about it initially, but I've just performed in public. I actually sang a song, and played my guitar, in front of lots of people who I have never met in my life. And Santana and Rachel. Huh. Not bad, Fabray.

I begin the second song of my set and quickly move on to the third, my nerves slowly relaxing as I strum.

"_Excuse me, have I spoke too soon?" _I look to Rachel, who is sat grinning, chewing on her lip,_ "My eyes have always followed you around the room. 'Cause you're the only God that I will ever need. I'm holding on, I'm waiting for the moment to find me."_

The audience applauds after every song, and I can feel the stress ebbing away as I drain my drink. I thank the audience again, adjust my hat and launch straight into my next song. I begin by plucking the strings, pressing pedals so the sound continues as I start strumming the chords. It's something I've become accustomed to now, although I can't help but worry that I'll press the wrong button and the whole thing will go horribly wrong. I try not to think of it.

"_Oh oh oh-oh, oh oh oh-oh, oh oh oh-oh, oh oh oh-oh. Keep drinkin' coffee, stare me down across the table. While I look outside. So many things I'd say if only I were able, but I just keep quiet, and count the cars that pass by._"I resist the urge to look at Santana or Rachel as I sing.

"You've got opinions, man. We're all entitled to 'em. But I never asked. So let me thank you for your time, and try to not waste any more of mine. Get out of here fast. I hate to break it to you, babe. But I'm not drowning. There's no one here to save."

I chance a glance at my two best friends. Both brows are furrowed in confusion. Oh, dear.

"Who cares if you disagree? You are not me. Who made you king of anything? So you dare tell me who to be? Who died and made you king of anything?"

-o-

"Hm." Rachel raised an eyebrow, glancing pointedly to Santana, "This song seems like a dig."

"Yeah." Santana nodded, cutting her eyes to the small brunette with a sneer, "Wonder who at."

-o-

The rest of my songs go by in a flash, and I begin to realise that I'm actually enjoying myself. I take a deep breath, step up to the mic once again, with a much bigger grin than when I started, "Okay this is my last song now. I want to say thank you again to everyone, you've been an amazing audience. So, this one is a completely different genre to my other songs, and I'm pretty sure you'll recognise it. Hopefully you won't mind the change of style." I grin hopefully before stepping back and checking my instruments before I begin.

I strum once, suddenly aware of how silent the bar is while I play, "_It won't be easy. You'll think it's strange._" Another strum, "_If I try to explain how I feel. That I still need your love after all that I've done._" Strum, "_You won't believe me. All you will see, is a girl you once knew." _Strum._ "Although she's dressed up to the nines_." Strum. "_At sixes and sevens with you_."

I look to Rachel and Santana. The latter's eyes are narrowed with interest, whilst Rachel looks more bemused, and curious. I begin strumming almost continuously.

"_I had to let it happen. I had to change. Couldn't spend all my life down at heel._" I look to the girls with a small chuckle, and both grin as Santana bows her head, giggling, "_Looking out of the window, staying out of the sun_." I stop strumming abruptly. "_So I chose freedom_." When I continue, my rhythm increases, and I can see the audience beginning to smile amongst themselves, "_Running around, trying everything new. But nothing impressed me at all. I never expected it to_."

I pluck the melody for a moment before stopping once more, allowing the silence to hang in the room for a second before beginning to tap out the rhythm on the body with my palms and fingers, strumming occasionally to carry the riff. This is my favourite song to play. The sound is raw, the song stripped back, and I find myself smiling as my hands move from the strings to the smooth wood of the body and back.

"_Don't cry for me argentina. The truth is I never left you. All through my wild days. My mad existence. I kept my promise, don't keep your distance_."

I continue on with the next verse, and notice a few people in the bar bobbing their heads. My nerves begin to build again as I sing the next chorus, gearing myself up for the instrumental. Once I've begun the instrumental, I'm pressing different pedals constantly to record and play back different rhythms and riffs. My heart is in my chest as I reach for the other case, glancing down at my effects pedals to ensure I'm on the right settings, before pulling out the trumpet. I can hear the audience's reactions as I raise it to my lips, concentrating hard. I play three different melodies, recording them one by one so they play over each other before placing it back in its case and adding to the guitar riffs.

I press a pedal and all noise ceases, "_Have I said too much? There is nothing more I can say to you_." I give a single strum again, "_But all you have to do, is look at me. To know every word is true_."

I begin the chorus again, repeating the process of recording and playing melodies and riffs over each other until I reach the end of the song, "_Don't cry for me, Argentina. Don't cry for me, Argentina_."

Rachel woops loudly as the audience bursts into a round of applause. I push my hat back off my face to wipe at my forehead, my heart pounding rapidly. Santana raises her fingers to her lips and gives a shrill wolf-whistle, and I grin, chuckling quietly as I few members of the audience clamber to their feet.

"Thank you so much." I say into the microphone, my face blushing furiously as I nod, unplugging my guitar and carrying my equipment off stage.

As soon as my guitar, trumpet and pedals are packed away, I make my way back to the table, where Santana and Rachel jump to their feet to ambush me. Both girls pull me into a tight hug, though I do notice Santana slapping Rachel's hand as it attempts to circle her waist. I pull away with a relieved laugh, shaking my head in disbelief.

"Oh my God. I cannot believe that." I say, eyes wide as I take a seat once again.

"_I can_." Santana counters, "You were amazing, just like we said."

Rachel nods enthusiastically, "Yes, I'm so glad you decided to do this. It was awesome. And I am going to buy you a drink for your awesome milestone." She beams at me, and I can't resist a shy smile.

"Well, now that the fun part is over and you didn't embarrass yourself, I'm going to the bathroom. Good job, Q." Santana nods to me, standing up and holding out her had for a high five. I slap my hand against hers with a grin and turn back to Rachel, who checks my order before grinning and pushing herself off the seat.

I watch her retreating back, and she turns to look over her shoulder and give me a small smile. There's a sudden dropping sensation in my stomach, and the corners of my mouth twitch up nervously to return her expression. She reaches the bar and addresses the barman, and I look away, chewing on my lip. The small brunette reappears a moment later, grinning as she seats herself beside me, and sliding my drink across the table.

"Oh my God, Quinn!" She exclaims, and I turn to look at her as she wraps her hands around my arm, "You were phenomenal. I can't believe I'd never heard you play like that before. I feel like I've been missing out!" She chuckles, grinning up at me.

"Don't be silly." I shake my head, "It's nothing really." I shrug, but Rachel shakes her head, her expression softening into an easy smile.

"It's definitely not nothing." She replies quietly. I swallow, realising that my chest feels tight as Rachel gazes up at me. My mouth feels dry and I want to reach for my drink, but I feel frozen. Rachel's tongue darts out to skim her lip, and I glance down quickly, before my eyes dart up to meet her gaze once again. She's not looking away. Holy shit, is this a 'moment'? Am I having a 'moment' with _Rachel_? What?

My head snaps upwards as Santana slaps her hand on the table I front of me, and I jump, startled. Rachel quickly withdraws her hands from my arm. She shifts away from me and clasps her hands tightly in her lap. I glance back to her, dumbstruck for a moment, but she's staring down at the tabletop.

"And that's how it's done!" She announces triumphantly, lifting her hand to reveal a crumpled piece of paper with _Becky _and a number scrawled across it in thick, smudgy handwriting. It looks like it's been wrote in eyeliner on the back of a receipt, but Santana smirks confidently as she sits down heavily beside me.

"Who's Becky?" Rachel asks with a confused frown, and Santana rolls her eyes.

She twists to gaze around the bar, "…_That_ is Becky." She points to a redhead with impeccable make-up and a sharply-cut, tailored suit, and I nod slowly as the girl turns towards us. Her smile never falters with self-consciousness, she simply nods her head casually. Santana gives a flirty wiggle of her fingers before shifting back to turn to us with a grin.

"I see. Well, congratulations."

"_So_, do you think you'll do this again?" She asks casually, taking a sip of her drink.

"Um maybe." I nod distractedly as I turn to Santana, "I mean, I think it was a success." I shrug.

"Of course it was!" Rachel gives me a gentle, playful shove. Suddenly her demeanour has changed, and the heavy air from a few moments ago seems to have vanished. She's acting casual and carefree, as if nothing happened at all. I have to admit, it throws me a little. "You should definitely do it again, Quinn."

"Yeah, plus chicks love a girl who can play guitar." Santana adds with a raunchy wink.

I roll my eyes with a chuckle, reaching for my drink and tipping it back.

-oOo-

"Hey, Virgin Fabray?" Santana called out drunkenly as the girls ambled along the streets. Quinn rolled her eyes.

"What?" She asked drowsily, the guitar case bashing against her legs as she walked.

"Can I stay over tonight? My house seems so far away." She whined, and the blonde glanced to Rachel, who was staring at the ground, before nodding resignedly. "Thank you." Santana mumbled childishly.

"I'm totally going to my dads'." Rachel shook her head, causing herself to wince suddenly. "The idea of walking all across town makes me want to vomit."

"Do you want me to walk you there?" Quinn raised her eyebrows with concern, "San can let Barney out; I don't want you walking home alone."

"No, it's fine." Rachel waved a hand dismissively, "I'll text my Dad, he'll be walking the dogs anyway; he won't mind meeting me."

"Okay…" The blonde frowned, "If you're sure? But text him now, so he's ready." Rachel gazed back at her challengingly, and Quinn nodded her head to usher her along. The small brunette sighed heavily, a wry smile playing around her lips as she gave in, reaching for her phone and obliging.

"Are we nearly there?" Santana groaned, "I'm sick of carrying this thing." She sighed heavily, shifting the case in her arms.

"Wanna switch?" Quinn raised an eyebrow, and Santana looked from her case to Quinn's much larger one, taking a deep breath.

"No." she sighed.

They said goodbye to Rachel outside of Quinn's building, and the blonde took the case from her before they exchanged a hug and she led Santana into the building. Rachel had spent the rest of the evening acting completely normal, as if nothing had happened, and Quinn was starting to think she must have imagined the moment, or maybe she was just on a high from performing. Rachel had taken to the stage a few minutes after the encounter, and so Quinn wasn't given a chance to speak to her about it. Although she wasn't sure she'd have had the courage to broach the subject, even if she'd had the chance to.

"So, as much as it pains me to admit it," Santana began as Quinn unlocked the door, struggling to balance the various cases as she did so, "you were good tonight, and it wasn't the worst evening of my life."

"Well, I'm glad you managed to overcome such hardship for me. Thanks." The blonde replied sarcastically, shouldering her way into the apartment.

"Ugh! Quinn!" Santana grimaced as she entered, "You need to tidy up in here." She shook her head incredulously as Quinn piled the instruments in the corner, before bending down to greet a sleepy Barney, who was blinking and stretching, enjoying having his ears tickled by Santana.

"I know, I know." The blonde rolled her eyes with a nod before collapsing onto the sofa, "I didn't have time earlier; I was working."

"Ugh. You're always working. Spend some time working on your house, instead." Santana sneered as she dropped down beside the blonde, Barney jumping up a second later to join them.

"Yeah, yeah." She dismissed the girl, and they sat gazing groggily around the apartment in tired silence. "Hey, Santana?"

"Yuh?" The girl replied through a long yawn.

"I need to talk to you about something." Quinn said nervously, still glancing around the apartment. Santana nodded slowly, and the blonde took a deep breath, bringing her legs up onto the sofa and turning to face her friend. "Okay, I had this weird kind of…feeling. Earlier."

"Was it like a sneeze but better?" Santana replied, giggling at her own joke.

"No!" Quinn laughed, slapping the brunette's leg gently. "It was when you went to the bathroom and got that girl's number."

"Yes, I did."

"Stop interrupting!" Quinn clapped her hand over the girl's mouth, and Santana let out a low rumbling chortle, "So, you went to the bar and Rachel and I were talking about my performance. I said it was nothing and she was holding my arm and she said it wasn't nothing and I looked at her and then like…she just looked back at me."

"Wow." Santana took a deep breath, "That's some serious Fifty Shades shit, right there." She scoffed.

"I'm serious, it was just like…we were just…gazing at each other. It was, like, a moment." She released Santana, nodding for emphasis, "And then she like, licked her lips and I was looking and I wondered if she was going to try and kiss me and-"

"Okay, ew, you've said enough." Santana held up a hand, "So, what? You were thinking of kissing her? Or rather, kissing her back if she had kissed you?"

"I don't know!" Quinn groaned exasperatedly, "I really don't. It was just like, a moment. I don't even know what kind of moment! I could be completely wrong about this. I could be imagining the whole thing. You know, I _was _kind of on a high from being on stage and everything. Maybe it was just that."

Santana nodded as if to say 'it's possible'.

"So, technicalities aside," The brunette challenged, "Did you _want_ to kiss her?"

"Not really. But not _no_." She frowned, "It's just, its Rachel! I've never considered it before; she's my friend!" Quinn gesticulated desperately, and Santana nodded slowly.

"Okay. Consider it now." Santana replied simply. "If she'd tried to kiss you, what would you have done?"

"Well, I'd have probably gone with it." Quinn admitted with a shrug, "But I think that's more to do with my complete inability to confront situations and/or cause conflict. And less about Rachel."

"Oh, Jesus." The brunette sighed impatiently, "Are you being difficult on purpose?" She asked, irritable.

"No." Quinn groaned, pouting and feeling sorry for herself. Santana took a deep breath, pausing thoughtfully.

"So, what are you worried about in this situation? I mean, Rachel _might _have been about to kiss you. But either way, she didn't get chance to. So does it matter what it means? It didn't happen. If it ever happens again, you can choose to confront it, or maybe one day Rachel will confront it, or maybe there's actually nothing to confront because you really _were _just imagining it." The brunette shrugged.

"So your helpful advice is not to do anything, and wait until it happens again, _if_ it ever happens again?" Quinn raised her eyebrows, and Santana paused, her face twisted with thought.

"Yup. Pretty much. I mean, what else _can y_ou do? That doesn't involve talking to Rachel about it and giving yourself an anxiety-driven aneurism?" Santana asked, and Quinn's lip curled as she considered the question.

"Okay fine. Good call." She nodded.

"So, let's pretend for a second that you're not socially crippled," Santana began, and Quinn pouted moodily, "And you have no attachment to Rachel whatsoever."

"Okay…" The blonde agreed, frowning in confusion.

"In this…'moment', would you have kissed her?" She asked interestedly.

Quinn paused thoughtfully, gazing through the window in front of her and biting her lip. She turned to Santana, nodding slowly. "Probably." She answered in a low voice.

"Huh." Santana replied, nodding deliberately.

The blonde chewed at the inside of her cheek, turning to the brunette with wide eyes, "What does that mean?" She asked, her voice tinged with fear.

The brunette took a deep breath, smiling kindly, "It doesn't mean a thing, Q." She replied honestly, shifting so her body was angled towards the blonde's, "Or rather, it means whatever you want it to mean. It doesn't have to change anything about your life." Quinn looked up, meeting her eye and looking for reassurance. The brunette scrunched her nose, nodding slowly, "Seriously."

"So what? Am I gay now?" Quinn asked disbelievingly, and Santana chuckled.

"Of course not!" She rolled her eyes, "Feeling like you wanted to kiss one girl because you'd been performing and you were all high on life and she licked her lips does not make you _gay._ The fact that that girl was _Berry_…makes you mentally unstable, but not gay."

"But you've been saying it for years." Quinn pointed out, and Santana paused.

"Well…yeah." She admitted, "But that's more because it drives you crazy." She chuckled guiltily, and Quinn glared at her.

"Whatever. You're just hoping I am so you can jump my bones." The blonde joked, winking cheekily. Santana quirked an eyebrow.

"Okay first of all, if I wanted to jump your bones, you would know about it." She ticked the list off on her fingers, "Secondly, I would eat you alive. It would be like a lion and a ladybird." Quinn managed to hold the girl's gaze, resisting the urge to shy away. She wasn't entirely sure what she was meant to say to that. If it was at all possible, she actually felt drunker now than she had on the walk home. Her thoughts certainly weren't in any sort of logical formation.

"I've had too much to drink for this conversation; I'm afraid I'll gag if you keep talking." She countered cockily.

"Whatever. You should be so lucky." Santana smirked.

"Let's go to bed." Quinn nodded, pushing herself off the couch.

"As long as you promise to stay on your side." Santana replied cockily with a chuckle, "Don't want you touching me up now that you're one of the gays."

* * *

**Hey! Thanks for reading, and if anybody's interested, the songs mentioned that Quinn sings at her open mic night are:**  
**The Days of Being Young and Free - Amy MacDonald**  
**If I Had a Gun - Noal Gallagher's High Flying Birds**  
**King of Anything - Sara Bareilles****Argentina - Paul Liddell**

**And I would _strongly_ reccommend checking out this link: watch?v=L12mEwoNlFs  
which is Paul Liddell's cover of Don't Cry For Me. It's definitely worth a listen and shows exactly what kind of style I had in mind for how Quinn plays.****Thank you all for reading, I know there's a lot of you who have decided whether you want Faberry or Quintana, but where would the fun be in knowing who's endgame? Please feel free to leave reviews :D**


	7. Chapter 7

**I'll polish the leaves, make them green again. Shake out the trees, change the scene again. Spring cleaning, getting ready for love – **_**Fats Waller, Spring Cleaning**_

"Oh my God, my head." Quinn growled, rolling onto her back with a wince. Her eyes felt like they were glued shut, and she blinked painfully a few times before her eyes would open properly. The girls had forgotten to close the blinds on the skylight the night before, and flecks of dust were swirling in the square of bright light that was illuminating the bed. The corners of her bedroom looked dark and shadowy in contrast with the blinding sunlight, and Quinn soon closed her eyes once again.

"What's wrong with it?" Santana asked brightly, perched on the opposite side, her feet swinging over the side of the bed.

"It hurts." The blonde replied grouchily. Santana turned to look over her shoulder, chuckling when she saw the state of her friend.

"Oh my God. You look like death." She laughed, pulling her t-shirt over her head.

"Thanks, San." Quinn replied stonily, easing herself into a sitting position.

"Well, there's also some water on the side for you. I couldn't find any aspirin." She explained, and Quinn looked to the bedside table, grateful to find a full glass there. She drank greedily; her tongue felt like it had been welded to the roof of her mouth.

"How come you're so chirpy?" She asked Santana begrudgingly, as the brunette climbed to her feet, pulling on her jeans. "Are you not hungover?"

"Not really." The girl replied with a shrug, "I think I can just handle more alcohol than you."

"Why? That's not fair." The blonde pouted, clutching at her pounding head.

"Well," Santana reasoned seriously, "I suppose I've spent more time doing body-shots off SoHo rent-boys than you have."

Quinn lifted her head from her hands, turning to stare incredulously at the brunette, who continued dressing, unphased. She shook her head in disbelief, shifting to the edge of the bed and pushing herself up slowly. Making her way into the kitchen, she rummaged in various drawers while Santana began fiddling with the coffee machine. Finally finding a packet of tablets, she took two and accepted the cup gratefully from Santana.

"Okay, I'm having some breakfast because I gotta get to work." Santana announced, rummaging in the cupboards.

"There's eggs in the fridge." Quinn droned begrudgingly, and the brunette fist pumped in celebration before moving to the fridge. "And you're at work today? Are you going to have time to go home and change?"

"No need." Santana replied with a grin. She thrust the box of eggs into Quinn's hand before crossing to the corner and opening the coat closet, picking up a bag and moving to drop it onto the dining table.

"What is that?" The blonde asked with a resigned sigh.

"My work clothes." The girl grinned proudly, holding up a FDNY t-shirt.

"How did they get here?" Quinn questioned suspiciously, quirking an eyebrow.

"Um…" Santana paused, narrowing her eyes thoughtfully, "Nope. I got nothing." She shrugged brightly, and Quinn chuckled incredulously.

"Why do you have a bag of work clothes in my closet?" The blonde demanded, "And how did I never notice it?" She added, bewildered.

"Um…I put them there." Santana answered slowly. "You know, for emergencies. And I'm assuming the reason you didn't notice is because I used my brains and cunning to hide the bag somewhere you would never look." She smiled smugly, but Quinn raised an eyebrow sceptically.

"Somewhere I'd never look? The closet? Really?"

"Yes. The closet where you keep your vacuum, mop, broom, duster and cleaning products. Somewhere you never look." She bopped Quinn's nose with the end of her finger, smiling contentedly.

The blonde searched for a comeback begrudgingly, biting her lip. Finally, she took a deep breath. "Just go change." She sighed, shaking her head reluctantly, "I'll make the eggs."

As Santana bounded up the stairs to get ready, Quinn padded through to the kitchen and began cooking the breakfasts. Despite her headache, she forced herself to think clearly about the night before. It had certainly been…an experience. Deep down, she had known that her set would go swimmingly. Even if she had been awful, in general people were polite and she probably wouldn't have even known. But she was still relieved that the night had been a success.

She was barely listening as Santana rambled through breakfast, chattering at what felt like a thousand words per minute. She thought back to the look in Rachel's eyes as she looked up at her. It was like a mixture of curiosity, apprehension, and something else she couldn't quite put her finger on. Sighing heavily, she shovelled another forkful into her mouth whilst Santana continued babbling; about fire hydrants, she thought. What had she even been thinking? She had no idea how she'd even ended up sitting with Rachel wrapped around her. She was being silly. Rachel was her best friend, and that was it.

-oOo-

"Hey, it's me." Her smile was tight as Rachel answered the phone.

"Hi. Are you okay?" She asked in a groggy voice.

"Um, yeah. A-are you?" Quinn cleared her throat as quietly as she could manage. Her heart should not be racing so fast over something as trivial as a phone call to her best friend.

"Yeah, I'm okay. My head hurts a little." Rachel replied with a small chuckle.

"Tell me about it."

"So…" The brunette began, "Any reason you're calling, or should I just sit back and enjoy it?"

"No, there is a reason I'm calling. And if you agree, it won't involve much sitting back…"

"Okay." Rachel sighed, "What's up?"

"Do you want to come help me clean out my apartment?" She asked regretfully, but she had barely finished before Rachel responded.

"I'll be there in ten minutes." She promptly hung up, and Quinn frowned down at her phone for a second before nodding slowly and placing it down on the coffee table. She sat back on the sofa, taking a deep breath and letting it out in a long sigh as she gazed around the apartment. Wow. Now that she was actually about to tackle this mammoth task…all she _really _wanted to do was curl up under a rock. And the prospect of seeing Rachel after last wasn't exactly helping. Her stomach felt like it was flipping, but she knew that if anyone could get her apartment looking clean and tidy in one day, it was Rachel.

"You gonna help?" She asked Barney, whose eyebrows twitched in response, "Of course not. Useless monkey bum." She laid sideways on the sofa so her head was beside the dog's, growling under her breath. Barney's hackles rose immediately, and he stood up on the sofa to growl back, with a small bark. She grabbed his nose, clamping his mouth shut with one hand whilst tapping him on the head with the other. As Barney struggled, she released his muzzle to throw her arms around his middle, growling as she pulled and pushed the dog from side to side, and he nipped at her back as he struggled to get away.

Giggling, she finally released him, only to have his huge front paws push against her chest. The sudden force tipped her backwards, and she groaned as Barney licked at her chin. Grimacing and wriggling away, she pushed herself off the sofa, pinning the dog in place as she wandered away to the kitchen. He trotted after her excitedly, and she rubbed at his head as she searched in the cupboard under the sink for trash bags.

Rachel arrived a few minutes later, in a whirlwind of cleaning products and instructions. She had dark rings around her eyes and a constantly pained expression, and Quinn couldn't resist chuckling as she took in the girl's appearance, "What?" Rachel asked irritably, tying her hair back in a tight ponytail.

"I'm sorry, but _you look_ how _I feel_." She shook her head incredulously, "Have you had an aspirin?"

"Yes I've had four." The girl replied with a sigh, "Anyway, I'll be fine. I've been waiting to get my hands on this place for s_o _long."

"What do you mean?" Quinn frowned, starting to throw empty food wrappers into the bag in her hand.

"I'm sorry, Quinn. You know I love you, but your apartment is a breeding ground for bacteria. I will feel so much cleaner and safer here once we have eradicated all forms of from your surfaces." She nodded swiftly before grabbing another trash bag and beginning to throw old magazines into it at speed.

-oOo-

An hour later and Quinn was sighing heavily as she scrubbed at the window ledges, "How do these even _g_e_t _dirty?" She demanded exasperatedly, and Rachel switched off the vacuum as she turned to her.

"Everything gets dirty eventually, Quinn." She replied seriously, "Seriously, throw things in the trash, vacuum and wipe all surfaces once a week, and we will _never_ have to do this again." She nodded slowly as she spoke, and the blonde glared at the side of Rachel's head as the girl turned back to her vacuuming. Rachel rolled her eyes, calling out over the noise of the vacuum, "Don't look at me like that, you'll be grateful in…" she surveyed the apartment, "Two to six hours."

"It's not _that _bad!" The blonde sighed irritably.

"Oh, please. I can almost _feel _myself suffocating from all the dust in the air." The brunette replied, finally switching off the vacuum.

"That's because it's all unsettled!" Quinn protested wryly, "If we hadn't started cleaning, we wouldn't have uprooted the dust and we'd all breathe easier."

Rachel raised an eyebrow, giving the blonde an unimpressed, challenging look. The blonde grinned brightly, but a knock at the door diverted her attention. She pushed herself off the floor, abandoning her dirty cloth on the window sill and pushing her sleeves up. Though the room was visibly less cluttered than it had been previously, there were still various piles of junk waiting to be sorted and stored away, and she tiptoed between the unsteady heaps, grimacing as her calf grazed a stack of books, sending them tumbling to the floor with a loud crash.

"What the fuck are you doing in there, Q?" Santana's voice demanded from the other side of the door. The blonde sighed, rolling her eyes, as Rachel's smile hardened.

"I'm coming!" Quinn called back as she debated whether to answer the door first or pick up the books scattered across the floor. As she was flapping her hands with indecision, Santana's fist pounded against the door again, and she gave up on the books to flit across to the door. She pulled it open mid-knocking, and Santana stood on the other side looking disgruntled, her fist raised. As soon as her eyes fell on Quinn's appearance, and glanced past her to the state of the apartment, her frown immediately cleared and the corners of her mouth twitched upwards in amusement.

"Well, hey there, Dusty Springclean!" She greeted with a smug grin, "You look lovely." She nodded sincerely.

"Hey, San." Quinn stepped back to let her in, looking resigned, "Why didn't you just walk in, like always?" Her eyes narrowed suspiciously.

"Well, you have a headache. I figured letting myself in would be too painless." She replied cheekily, and Quinn shook her head incredulously. Santana turned to the brunette with a nod, "Berry."

There was a twinkle in the taller brunette's eyes that made Quinn feel uncomfortable. It was a knowing smugness, and though she trusted the girl not to say anything, she didn't necessarily trust Santana to not make her squirm. "So, what did you need? I thought you were at work?" She asked quickly, and Santana turned back to her with a slightly awkward nod.

"Yeah, uh, actually the reason I knocked is because I left my keys." She admitted with a self-conscious shrug. "Also has my apartment key and my locker key for work so…gonna need them." She jerked a thumb over her shoulder and Quinn nodded.

"Oh, go ahead." She smiled, crossing back to the window ledge and picking up her cloth, folding it inside out in an attempt to use a cleaner section of material before kneeling beside the window.

"Why's she going upstairs?" Rachel asked quietly, frowning as she coiled the chord tidily around the vacuum.

"She stayed over last night, remember?" Quinn raised an eyebrow, confused, and Rachel nodded.

"Oh, yeah. I, uh…forgot." The brunette glanced up to the balcony, where Santana was rummaging through the clothes strewn on Quinn's floor, "So you share a bed when she stays over?" Rachel asked, attempting to sound casual and curious.

"Yeah, the couch is always covered in Barney's hair." Quinn replied absent-mindedly, "Or Barney." The blonde dog pushed his nose under her arm as she spoke, and she chuckled, grabbing the retriever's nose and pushing him backwards with a growl.

"Oh. I see." Rachel nodded, glancing back up to where Santana was grinning triumphantly, throwing her keys in the air and catching them again before jogging down the wrought iron staircase.

"Okay, got em!" She announced as she reached the bottom, "Thanks, Q." Barney trotted over to the girl, who bent down to ruffle his ears, pressing her face into the fur of his neck and kissing the top of his head before straightening up again, "I'd better get back to work. The place looks good. About time you stopped being such a slob."

She chuckled, and was gone as quickly as she had arrived.

-oOo-

"Okay. Wow." Quinn gazed, awestruck, around the apartment, as she flopped down onto the sofa.

"I know." Rachel nodded with a small chuckle as she collapsed beside the blonde, tapping her leg to invite Barney to jump up onto her lap, which he did with enthusiasm.

"It looks amazing." The blonde shook her head disbelievingly, "And though I hate to say it, you were right. It_ was_ a lot of effort, but it _does_ look good."

"You're welcome." Rachel replied smugly, "We still need to take those bags down to the dumpster, though." She added, nodding to the multiple bags beside the door, each full to bursting.

"I know." Quinn sighed, rolling her head to look at Rachel, "So what's your plan for the night?"

"Uh…" Rachel's lip curled thoughtfully, "Nothing?"

"You wanna go get some dinner? Maybe rent a movie or something?" The blonde suggested with a shrug, "We can christen my beautiful new apartment."

"Sounds good to me." The brunette nodded, "How about…Mexican?"

"Perfect." Quinn agreed, taking a deep breath and pushing herself off the couch, "I have a menu in a drawer somewhere." She wandered through to the kitchen, pulling various drawers and cupboards open and rifling through the contents. "Ugh! I can't find it!" She called through with a frown, before looking back into the living room, "Did you see a menu for Arriba's? It's closest."

"Left hand side, second drawer down, under the batteries and dish towels." Rachel instructed confidently. Quinn moved back to the kitchen, counting out her instructions and retrieving the menu.

"I appreciate the re-organisation and everything, but who puts batteries, kitchen towels and _take out menus_ in the same drawer?" The blonde frowned, bemused, as she plonked herself back down on the sofa beside Rachel, passing her the menu.

"Well, who _doesn't _have a place to keep kitchen towels, batteries and take out menus?" Rachel countered, raising an eyebrow.

Quinn paused, her eyes narrowed thoughtfully, "I'm pretty sure most people don't. Anyway, look at the menu! What do you want?"

Rachel hummed thoughtfully, chewing at her lip as her eyes scanned through the options, "I think…umm, I think I'll go for…the…zucchini and pepper bean burrito."

"Ooh, exotic." Quinn's eyes widened excitedly, "I'm getting the loaded enchiladas. Do you want to call them or should I?"

"I don't know, do we have time to shower first? I feel disgusting." Rachel grimaced, grabbing the front of her t-shirt and flapping it to cool herself down.

"Tell me about it." The blonde rolled her eyes, "Why don't you go shower and I'll call them; you can borrow some clean clothes then go pick up the food while I shower?"

Rachel's mouth twisted as she considered the offer, "Why don't you shower while_ I_ call, then _you _go pick it up while I shower?"

Quinn scoffed, shaking her head incredulously, "You just can't be bothered going to pick it up."

"Pretty much." Rachel giggled guiltily, "Is that okay?" She turned to look at Quinn with a cheeky grin, and the blonde took a deep breath before nodding, a wry smile playing around her lips.

"Fine. Call them." She shook her head disbelievingly before pushing herself off the sofa to go shower.

-oOo-

"So what movie should I get?" Quinn called from the bedroom as she towel-dried her hair.

"Um…something funny?" The brunette shouted from the en-suite.

"Well that narrows it down." The other girl muttered sarcastically as she began to moisturize her face. She was stopped in her tracks as she heard the shower door open and close, and the sound of water pattering against the shower floor. She turned to stare at the closed door while the old pipes below them creaked and groaned. Swallowing hard, she turned away, grabbing her sneakers and jamming her feet into them before grabbing a jacket that was hung at the end of her large metal bedstead.

She jogged quickly down the staircase before throwing a collar and lead on Barney, grabbing her keys and dragging him out of the door. She didn't realise she had been holding her breath until she had descended the flight of stairs and emerged out onto the street. Taking a deep breath, she attempted to clear her head, and pulled on her jacket before setting off in the direction of the restaurant. Rubbing at her eyes, she attempted to straighten out her thoughts. This was ridiculous. She was practically palpitating just because Rachel was having a shower in her apartment. Her heart fluttered as she considered that when she returned, Rachel would be wandering around in _her_ apartment, wearing _her_ clothes, eating dinner with her, cosying up on the sofa with her and Barney to watch the movie. Taking a deep breath, she rounded a corner and tied Barney to a lamppost before turning in to the restaurant, giving the name and accepting their order gratefully.

Stepping back out onto the street, she untied Barney and crossed over to the store opposite, tyting him up once again before entering. It was possible that she hadn't thought it through properly when she brought the dog along with her; it was turning out to be a bit of a chore, really. Scanning the shelves of movies, she sighed heavily and grabbed a random romantic comedy. It had Jennifer Lawrence and Joseph Gordon-Levitt on the cover, and her eyes darted across the back of the case before she shrugged and carried it across to the counter. A few minutes later, and she was trudging back towards her apartment as Barney trotted along happily beside her. She insisted that he cock his leg by the lamppost outside her building, before taking a deep breath to steel her nerves and heading inside.

"Hey, what movie did you get?" Rachel called from the kitchen as Quinn entered.

"Rom com. Jennifer Lawrence and Joseph Gordon-Levitt." She replied as she levered off her skate shoes.

"Is he the one from The Avengers?" The brunette frowned, holding a wine bottle in one hand and wiggling the corkscrew with the other as Quinn joined her in the kitchen.

"No, but he's in The Dark Knight Rises. Dick Grayson?" She replied as she began to unpack the food.

"Haven't seen it." She answered, pouring the drinks.

"Really?" Quinn asked incredulously, "It's amazing."

"So, what else is he in?" Rachel asked with a frown, retrieving two plates.

"Um…Inception?" The blonde raised her eyebrows, and the brunette bit her lip thoughtfully. Quinn swallowed.

Rachel tilted her head, narrowing her eyes questioningly at the blonde, "The big guy? Eames?"

"No, that's Tom Hardy." Quinn sighed, "Interestingly, also in The Dark Knight Rises. But no, he plays Arthur."

"I don't remember Arthur." Rachel tutted, shaking her head. Quinn took a deep breath, attempting not to roll her eyes.

"Okay…" She grimaced thoughtfully, "500 Days of Summer? Tom?"

"Oh! I know who you mean!" The brunette clapped her hands excitedly, "Is he also in Pineapple Express?"

Quinn sighed, "No. That's James Franco. Or Seth Rogen." She finally gave in, reaching in to the bag and pulling out the DVD case, "Look. _This _is him."

"Ohhh…" Rachel nodded as she surveyed the cover, "I don't recognise him." She shook her head, placing the case on the counter with a nonplussed shrug.

Quinn shook her head exasperatedly, dropping her head into her hand with a sigh, "Well, hopefully you'll still enjoy the movie."

"I'm sure I will." The brunette grinned happily, picking up the two glasses of wine and DVD, carrying them through to the living room as Quinn followed behind with the plates of food.

-oOo-

Half an hour later, and their empty plates sat abandoned on the coffee table. The blonde took another large sip of wine as the pair giggled at one of the main character's comebacks. Her head was beginning to feel funny, and she welcomed the sensation. Her stomach felt full and round after eating so much, and she rested her head back on the couch with a content smile. She glanced away from the screen as Barney crawled off the sofa and Rachel shifted, pulling her hair over one shoulder and curling her legs up into Barney's recently-vacated space. The movement brought the brunette closer to Quinn, her knees pressing against the denim at Quinn's thigh. The blonde forcibly turned her attention back to the screen, leaning forward to retrieve the wine bottle from the coffee table and refill their glasses.

Rachel shifted back slightly, clearing her throat quietly as Quinn leaned back on the sofa again.

"Oh, Quinn?" Rachel said casually, "I meant to tell you, there was a guy asking about you the other day at your open mic."

The blonde frowned, reaching over to pause the movie and glancing to the brunette beside her, "What do you mean?"

Rachel rolled her eyes with a tight smile, "There was a guy the other night who was asking if I knew you and if you were single. I forgot to mention it, sorry."

"It's okay." Quinn shrugged, with a small frown, "Why was he asking about me?"

The brunette finally dragged her eyes across to meet the blonde's gaze, "Because he thought you were cute and talented and he wanted to take you on a date." Rachel spelt out slowly.

"Oh." Quinn nodded, staring down at her lap, "Really?"

"Yes!" Rachel chuckled, "You know that Blaine guy?"

"The guy who sang before me?" The blonde asked, frowning with disbelief.

"Yes. He watched your set and thought you were cute and I saw him on my way over here today and he asked if you're single." Rachel shrugged.

"Oh. Why didn't you tell me earlier?" Quinn chuckled.

"I told you." The other girl gave a small nod, "I forgot."

"Oh, well…he was kind of cute, I suppose." The blonde shrugged, "Okay, yeah. Do you have his number?"

"Yup." Rachel gave her a small smile, nodding tersely before pulling out her phone to send the number to Quinn.

"Thanks." The blonde smiled, retrieving the remote from the arm of the sofa and pressing play on the movie once again. "I'll call him tomorrow or something."

"Cool."

-oOo-

Quinn giggled loudly as she pressed pause on the credits of the movie, "I liked the ending. Even though I knew it would have a happy ending. I liked the happy ending."

"Me, too. I liked that Jennifer Lawrence kissed Gordon Joseph-Levitt." Rachel grinned, her head flopping onto Quinn's shoulder, "I like happy endings, too."

The blonde giggled again, "_Joseph Gordon_-Levitt." She corrected.

"Huh?" Rachel's lip curled in confusion, one eye screwed up.

"Never mind." Quinn shook her head messily.

"When do I get a happy ending?" Rachel asked, her words slurring slightly with the effort of lifting her head off Quinn's shoulder. "When will I meet Gordon Joseph-Levitt and fall in love?"

"It'll happen. I promise." The blonde raised her arm, lifting it over Rachel's head and wrapping it around her shoulders, "You're awesome, Rach. Some guy will see it eventually. They're just a little stupid." She gave the small brunette a gentle smile, and Rachel glanced up to meet her eye. She nodded gratefully before averting her gaze, taking a deep breath.

Quinn removed her arm once again, swallowing hard before shifting away, "Okay, I'm assuming you're staying over, so I'll go change the sheets." She nodded awkwardly and pushed herself off the sofa, scratching the back of her head with a small frown.

Rachel rubbed her knees for a second, biting her lip, before clapping her hands together, "I'll come help."

"You don't have to." The blonde smiled politely as she started up the stairs, but Rachel was already following behind.

As Quinn stripped the bedcover and pillows, Rachel tugged the sheet from the mattress. As she folded it roughly, the fabric billowed and a sweet, fresh scent drifted into her nose. The smell was vaguely familiar but distinctly different from Quinn's usual citric body wash. She frowned, swallowing hard as she realised the smell must be leftover from Santana's night's stay, and she quickly tossed the sheet across onto the pile of dirty bed linen. She retrieved the clean sheets, briskly forcing the new sheet over the mattress before sitting back on her haunches. The blonde tossed the pillows across to her, and she caught them one by one, depositing them at the head of the bed.

"Okay, do you wanna use the bathroom first?" Quinn raised her eyebrows to Rachel as she flapped the cover over the bed, "There should be a new toothbrush in the cabinet under the sink."

"Oh, great. Thank you." Rachel grinned sloppily, giving the blonde a small wave as she backed into the bathroom. Quinn giggled, waving back as Rachel shut the door behind her.

Her mouth twisted nervously as she gazed down at the bed. She swallowed, her finger nails clanging against the metal bedstead as she tapped out a random rhythm. She was nervy at the idea of sharing a bed with Rachel, though she didn't know why. They had shared a bed on numerous occasions; once they even shared a single mattress, when Rachel had just moved in to her apartment and they hadn't built her bed yet. So why was she so skittish now? Nothing had changed, not really.

Maybe it was the moment they had. Rachel hadn't acted any differently. Surely she was imagining it. Rachel had even begun setting her up on her next date. She must have been mistaken. Rachel was still the same old Rachel, still very affectionate, almost slightly weepy when drunk, still small and cute, and still pushing her to find a boyfriend. Although, had she always been so pretty?

She jumped as the bathroom door opened suddenly with a click, as if she had been caught. She smiled guiltily, reminding herself that Rachel had no idea what she was thinking. The brunette grinned, fresh faced, and leapt across to the bed.

"Oh, I'll get you something to sleep in." Quinn gave her head a small shake before crossing to the wardrobe. She tossed a few t-shirts and pyjamas onto the bed for Rachel to choose from, before crossing to the bathroom. Brushing her teeth quickly, she forced her heart to slow down. She was completely over thinking the whole night. It would be just like every time, just like it was with Santana. Purely platonic. She dried her hands on a towel, staring at her reflection in the mirror. Taking a deep breath, she steeled her nerves before turning to the door, turning the lock decisively and stepping back out into the balcony bedroom.

"I chose this t-shirt, if that's okay?" Rachel plucked at the fabric on her chest, showing a large graphic of a panda and the word Enjoi. "It looked huge and comfy."

"That's fine, no worries." Quinn shrugged with a smile, collecting up the rejected items of clothing and putting them away neatly. Rachel grinned, nodding her approval. "What pyjama bottoms did you choose?"

"Oh, the shirt is so big that it's practically a dress, so I didn't bother." Quinn resisted the urge to throw herself off the balcony, instead burying her head in the walk-in wardrobe to hide her flushed cheeks.

"Okay, that's no problem." The blonde called as she quickly changed into sleep shorts and an old Vans vest-top. She switched on the lamp by the bed, crossing the room to turn off the main light as Rachel tucked her legs under the covers.

Quinn jogged across the room on her tip-toes, throwing herself onto the bed and wriggling under the covers. Rachel grinned as she turned on her side to face the blonde.

"Were you just running away from monsters?" She asked in a hushed giggle.

"No…" The blonde glanced away shiftily, "…Vikings."

"Vikings?" Rachel chuckled, "Why not monsters?"

"Monsters aren't real." Quinn shrugged, looking at Rachel as if the idea were absurd.

"Neither are Vikings." The brunette frowned.

"They were once. And they were _awful_." She replied seriously, "They raped, pillaged. They were very mean boys." Rachel chuckled loudly, "What?"

"'Very mean boys'." She shook her head, "Well, don't worry. I promise if any Vikings come, I'll protect you."

"Thanks. You'd better mean that." She narrowed her eyes mock-seriously, "If Vikings get me tonight and you don't protect me…you're in big trouble."

"It'll be fine." Rachel smiled, "Night night, Barney!" She shouted down, and Quinn chuckled.

"Night, Barnster!" She called out as Rachel shifted, turning her back on Quinn, "Am I ok to turn the light out?"

"Yeah, I'm so tired." Rachel replied through a large yawn. Quinn turned off the lamp, and the room was plunged into darkness as her eyes adjusted to the limited light. The moon through the skylight cast an eerie pale-blue light over the room as the blonde settled herself. "Hey, Quinn?" Rachel's whisper broke the silence.

"Yeah?"

"You're a really good friend. I love you a lot." The brunette replied sleepily, and Quinn gave a small smile.

"Thanks, Rach. I love you, too." She propped herself up on one elbow as she leaned over, wrapping one arm around Rachel and giving her a gentle squeeze. Rachel's forearm slid across her own in a fatigued attempt at reciprocating the hug, and she shifted back slightly in the bed. Quinn shifted her weight, to roll onto her back once more, but Rachel's grip did not cease. She paused for a second, biting her lip thoughtfully before settling on her side and resting her head back on the pillow, her arm wrapped around Rachel's midriff and her face inches away from the girl's shoulder.

She swallowed hard, her eyes raking along the smaller girl's outline before fluttering shut.


	8. Chapter 8

**Hey! Sorry for the wait, hopefully the next chapter won't take as long.**

**As always, thank you so much for reading, and feedback is always welcome.**

* * *

**I wish I could sleep. But I'm tied down, dirty, in these borrowed sheets. It's been a week - _Kids in Glass Houses, Saturday_**

Quinn spent the next few days working around the clock. She had a big project involving various complicated elements and components, and her eyes were beginning to ache as she shut the light off in the early hours. Rubbing her eyes with the backs of her fingers, she stretched out her limbs before leaning down to ruffle behind Barney's ears. She yawned, her eyelids drooping as she dragged herself out of the desk chair and over to the kitchen. She poured herself a drink, carrying it upstairs before returning for Barney. Once he was settled on the bed, she changed into her pyjamas and brushed her teeth before clambering in beside the blonde dog.

Sighing heavily, she finally allowed her eyes to close. Truthfully, she had welcomed the opportunity to do nothing but work. Since she started dating and 'trying new things', it felt like she never had a moment alone. She loved Rachel and Santana, but all of these feelings for Rachel were, quite frankly, irritatingly confusing. When she wasn't attempting to avoid telling Santana everything, earning herself a mocking in the process, she was stuttering around Rachel while her heart pounded rapidly, or driving herself insane thinking about what it all meant. Now, she relished the chance to concentrate, and busy herself until she had no time spare to obsess over it all. By the time she fell into bed, she was so exhausted that she didn't have the mental capacity to think it over. She felt like it was working.

Obviously, she _had_ interacted with her best friends; otherwise no doubt they would be hammering down her door to check up on her. Santana had attempted to make plans, which Quinn had successfully side-stepped, whilst Rachel had been nagging her about her date with Blaine. She knew she would have to force herself back into society again sooner or later; she was lucky Santana hadn't let herself in to the apartment already, but she knew it was only a matter of time. She would have to call her tomorrow, make sure she wasn't planning on breaking and entering any time soon.

As for Rachel…she figured she'd probably continue avoiding her so she didn't have to go on the date with Blaine. Poor guy, he seemed lovely. And he was definitely good looking, even if Santana _did_ call him a hobbit. She had promised herself that she would deal with Rachel and the date with Blaine as soon as she had worked out her feelings. Although, she_ was_ hoping she'd have figured out her feelings by now. She knew that her tummy felt funny whenever Rachel was around. But did that make her gay? Did all girls make her feel funny? Or just Rachel? Santana certainly didn't make her feel funny, but she supposed she didn't talk to any other girls. Would any guy be able to make her feel funny like that?

Once she could answer all of those questions, she could decide whether to call Blaine or not.

She yawned once more, her consciousness swimming as she drifted to sleep. Just as she was on the brink of dreaming, a loud buzzing interrupted her peaceful reverie. Groaning, she rolled over as Barney lifted his head, sniffing at the exposed skin of her back and tickling the skin. She scowled, scratching at her back with a yawn before pulling her t-shirt down and reaching for her phone.

"Hello?" She croaked, her eyes glued shut.

"_Will you still love me when I'm no longer young and beautiful?!_" Santana bellowed down the phone. Quinn winced, holding the phone away from her ear as she shifted, tugging at the pillows until she could sit upright.

"Um, yes?" She groaned, and Santana giggled.

"Good. Someone has to. So, what's up, Q? It's Saturday night, why aren't you here?" She demanded, and Quinn's lip curled in confusion. She could barely hear the girl over the racket in the background.

"Because I've been working since this morning and I only just came to bed." She replied, but Santana snorted.

"You're in _bed?_" She repeated incredulously, "Well, then…get out of bed. Come see me."

"No, Sanny." She replied through a yawn, "I'm too tired. Is everything okay?"

The roaring background noise faded away, replaced by sounds of traffic, and Quinn assumed the brunette had stepped outside.

"I suppose." Santana replied with a sigh, "Why won't you come hang out?"

"I just told you. I've been working all day, I'm too tired."

"Okay." The brunette replied glumly, "Hey, Quinn?"

"Yeah?"

"I was out with that girl Becky tonight." Santana slurred.

"Oh, really?" Quinn replied before yawning widely. She rubbed at her eyes, finally admitting defeat and leaning across to switch the lamp on, wincing in the bright light.

"Yeah." The brunette nodded, though Quinn could not see her, "I think she's married."

"Oh…okay." She replied with a frown, "So what are you going to do? Break it off?"

"Um…probably not." Santana answered casually, "I mean, I probably _should_…but _I'm_ not the one cheating…and if it's not _me_, it'll just be someone _else_. So might as well be me!" She added brightly, and Quinn nodded slowly.

"I see. Well…good logic, I suppose." Her eyes narrowed in confusion, "So, not that I mind, but why _specifically_ are you calling me?"

"_Will you still love me when I'm no longer young and beautiful?_" Santana bellowed once again, and Quinn groaned loudly.

"Yeah, you did mention that." She replied seriously, and Santana giggled.

"Will you?"

"Yes." Quinn replied, her tone designed to placate the girl.

"_I know that you will! I know that you will! All that face! All that body!_ _All_…I don't know any more words." She trailed off, and the blonde nodded slowly.

"Oh…kay. So…is that everything?"

"Make a pact with me!" Santana announced suddenly, and Quinn's eyebrow raised sceptically.

"Oh God." She mumbled, before taking a breath, "I know you're Satan's right-hand minion and everything, but I'm just not ready to pledge the occult." She answered brightly.

"No! A pact that if I'm old and going to die, you'll marry me." The brunette demanded, and Quinn chuckled.

"Okay, like a back-up." She nodded, "Um, out of interest, what do you class as 'old and going to die'?"

"Well, old is like thirty or something, but we can push it back." Santana replied brightly.

"Thank you, I appreciate you giving me an extra few years to get hitched." She replied dryly, but Santana snorted.

"Please, it's not for you. Even if you _are_ a little boring and you don't really get out much-"

"Thanks, San."

"You'll probably be married by then anyway." Santana continued, oblivious, "Pretty soon you'll realise that when people tell you you're cute and stuff, it's actually true. And then you'll be like a little sex machine and I'll mentor you in the ways of the lady-lover, and you'll fall in love and be happy forever."

"Sure, San."

"So maybe we _will _say thirty. Otherwise, I'm just giving you more time to find someone, and then I'll end up alone anyway." Santana rambled on, "In fact, these back-up pact things are stupid. They'd only work if you both had exactly the same chances of ending up alone. Otherwise, it's likely one person will get left behind."

"Okay, Santana, I promise I won't marry anyone until I'm forty or whatever. Then if you're still single, I'll leave them for you. If you aren't, I'll marry them. Okay?" Quinn suggested. She was so tired her eyes were closing against her will, and was frankly willing to promise Santana anything if it meant she would stop screaming Lana Del Rey and talking about betrothment.

"You would do that for me?" Santana asked, her voice shaking slightly. Quinn sensed that they were bordering on Santana's weepy drunk territory.

"Of course, San. Can't let you be alone forever." She nodded, and she heard Santana grin.

"Awh, Q. We'd be an awesome couple. We can get a shit ton of cats and be those weird old ladies that do nothing but sit on the porch judging people." Santana replied excitedly.

"Yes. And when kids lose their balls in our yard, we'll never ever give them back."

"I'm gonna have a spike on the end of my walking stick so I can burst them."

"Good plan. And when small children get in our way when we're walking, we can hit them in the shins with our walking sticks." Quinn added brightly.

"Oh, God. I'm so excited." Santana replied in a delighted whisper.

"Me, too. But for now, why don't you go enjoy your night?" The blonde suggested, attempting to disguise a yawn, "I'm already an old lady, and it's past my bedtime. Go have fun, and do lots of things I would never do."

"Okay, Gay-'Bray. I love you!" Santana giggled, and Quinn gave a small chuckle.

"I love you, too. Night." She hung up before Santana could begin rambling again, dropping her phone onto the bedside table and turning out the light before yawning and settling back on the pillow. Within a couple of minutes, she was fast asleep.

-oOo-

She woke late the next day, and the late morning sun was already beaming. Thankfully, she had closed the blinds the night before, but she was woken by the sunlight creeping around the edges of the blackout material. She groaned, rolling over to press her face into the pillow, until Barney lifted his head, nudging at the side of her head. As his tongue made contact with her ear, she squirmed away with a chuckle, rubbing at her ear.

"Ew, did you have to?" The dog shifted his face closer to hers, panting with excitement. Scrunching up her nose in disgust, she grabbed him around the mouth and pushed his face away, "God, Barney. Your breath is like a noxious gas."

Cradling his head, she sat up to kiss the fur between his ears before dragging herself off the bed with a yawn. She showered and changed before jumping up onto the bed to open the blind. She lost her grip on the handle, and the fabric shot back onto the roll suddenly. The sunlight streamed in suddenly, and she winced, pulling her head back as she was dazzled by the light. As she attempted to step back, away from the blinding light, she tripped on Barney's foot, and careered towards the bed with her feet wrapped in the covers.

She landed on the bed with a loud _'ooph'_ and groaned as she turned to look at the dog, "You know, I'm starting to think you've got it in for me." She untangled herself and swung her legs over the side of the bed, taking her dirty glass from the bedside and calling for Barney to follow her down the stairs. Rubbing at her eyes, she poured herself a bowl of cereal and moved to the couch, where Barney was already stretched out. She rolled her eyes, pushing at the dog, who did not shift. With a sigh, she perched on the sofa, twisting her body to mould around the large dog's. Looking down at Barney, sleeping peacefully, she shook her head with a disbelieving smile.

She gazed out of the large window opposite, glancing to the remote control under Barney's head and deciding against trying to wrestle it from him. She watched a helicopter soar across the sky as Barney stretched out, his foot jamming hard into her hip. Wincing, she moved her body away and slid down onto the floor, her back resting against the sofa and sighed. As she stuffed a spoonful of cereal into her mouth, her phone began buzzing on the coffee table. Reluctantly, she took the phone and read the caller ID. Rachel. Taking a deep breath, she hit the answer button.

"Hey, Rach."

"Hey! Where have you been? I've missed you! I've been calling and trying to contact you, my dads said they haven't heard anything from you. What's going on?" Rachel released a tirade of questions, and Quinn was rendered speechless as she tried to keep up.

"Um, I'm sorry." She hurried to reply, "I didn't mean to go off the radar; I've been working really hard for this big project. Some stately home or something."

"Oh, okay." Rachel nodded, sounding somewhat placated.

"Yeah, I've just been stuck in my apartment working, I'm sorry I didn't call. Like I said, I was working straight until I was so tired I just fell into bed. Hopefully this will be the last day I have to work straight." She replied.

"Awh, that sucks. Well, if you get it all finished today, do think you'll be available this week?" The brunette asked hopefully.

"Yeah, totally!" Quinn grinned, "I'm free every night, what did you have in mind?"

"Well…your date with Blaine." Rachel pointed out with a frown.

"Oh. I mean, oh! Yeah!" The blonde forced herself to sound excited, "Of course. Well…yeah. I guess I'll call him then."

"Do it today." Rachel urged her with a small chuckle, "I know what you're like! He'll start to think you're not interested."

"Okay. I'll do it today." She nodded reluctantly, chewing on her lip.

"In fact, I'm going to hang up. Do it now, then you can call me back." She giggled evilly, and Quinn rolled her eyes, the corners of her mouth twitching upwards.

"Okay, fi-" She didn't have a chance to finish before Rachel hung up, and she deposited her cereal bowl on the coffee table before dropping her head into her hands with a sigh, "Oh, God."

She groaned, and her phone buzzed in her hand.

**CALL HIM NOW! :D R XXX**

She sighed again, scrolling down to Blaine's number and pushing the call button. It rang a few times, and her heart soared at the prospect of him not answering. The longer she could put it off, the better. But, just as she was about to give in and hang up, the phone was picked up.

"Hello?" A breathless voice answered, and Quinn frowned.

"Hi. Um, Blaine?" She greeted.

"Yes! Hello, can I ask who this is, please?" He asked politely, and she nodded.

"Oh, yes, sorry!" She chuckled, "It's Quinn. Um, from the open mic night? Rachel's friend?"

"Quinn! Yes, it's so good to hear from you." He replied excitedly, "You were really good the other night."

"Oh, well thank you. So were you, you're very talented." She replied.

"Okay so I'm going to get straight to the point…you're calling me; does this mean you're willing to go on a date with me?"

She gave a small laugh at his confidence, "Yes. Yes I am."

"Awesome, well then…when are you free?" He replied cheerily, and her lip curled thoughtfully.

"Uh, gosh…I can't do Wednesday, or the weekend. Tuesday?" She suggested. She felt bad lying to him, he seemed nice, but telling him she was completely free every night this week seemed a little sad.

"I can't do Tuesday night, but I'm free all day if you wanted to go for lunch or something?"

"Yeah, that sounds good." She smiled. They made plans to meet at the corner of a local park, and she hung up with a smile that soon faded. Groaning loudly, she pulled herself up so she was standing, before throwing herself down on the sofa, draped across Barney's back. He lifted his head with curiosity, and she buried her face in his fur. "Barney, when do I get to stop dating?" She asked in a muffled voice. The dog groaned, dropping his head back onto his paws and she sighed, "Well you're just a ray of fucking sunshine." She rubbed at his ears and patted his back before standing one again, and moving across to her desk.

-oOo-

Tuesday morning came around, and Quinn sat on the bed, staring at her open closet. She frowned, pulling out her phone and dialling Santana's number.

"Queer. How's it hanging?" The brunette answered.

"Okay. What can I wear for this date?" She asked bluntly.

"What date?" Santana asked incredulously, "You didn't tell me you had a date!"

"Yes I did! With that Blaine guy that Rachel's friends with." She reminded her, "You know. You asked whether he was taking me treasure hunting at The Lonely Mountain or for a barbeque at Mordor."

Santana laughed loudly, "Oh yeah, I remember now. God, I am hilarious." She added in a wondrous whisper.

"_Anyway_, what can I wear? We're meeting at the park for a lunch date." She stood up, crossing to the hangers in her wardrobe and weighing up her options.

"Lunch date. Okay, nothing too special. Any idea where he's taking you?"

"No."

"Okay, well it could be a picnic, so make sure it's something that you wouldn't mind getting a little dirty. But it could still be somewhere like a restaurant, and you want to make a good impression so still wear something nice." Santana assessed the situation.

"Do I?" Quinn cut in suddenly.

"What?" The brunette frowned.

"Do I want to make a good impression? Why?" She questioned exasperatedly, "I mean, I'm going on this date because I promised Rachel but…I don't know, I'm all over the place!"

"Okay, you need to calm down." Santana replied gently, "If you want to back out of this date, you can. If you're, you know, getting all oestrogen-y about it."

She sighed heavily, "Ugh, no. I'd feel too guilty." She took a deep breath, "I just feel like I'm going along with this whole thing, but I just can't think straight." Santana snorted, "Don't." She warned her, "Like, I don't know if I have some sort of weird crush on Rachel or something, or if it's nothing to do with Rachel at all. I mean, maybe it's because she's a girl; you've been saying it since forever. I'm just…ugh I'm having an identity crisis and this does not feel like the right time to be going gallivanting around with curly-haired Lotharios."

"Lotharios?" Santana snorted, "Okay, fine, I'm just gonna let that go. Here's the thing, even if you do have a crush on Short-Stuff, that doesn't mean you're sworn off men." She replied bluntly, and Quinn sighed.

"So what do I do?" She asked desperately. Santana rolled her eyes.

"Well, either you call off the date and bury your head in the sand, or you get dressed."

"I've told you! I can't call it off now! I just, I just don't know how to feel." The blonde mumbled miserably.

"Well, I vote you get dressed and go on this date. Just entertain the whole thing. Then you can tell him it won't work out, make your excuses and work the whole thing out later." Santana shrugged.

"Have you noticed how much of your advice focuses on procrastination and dealing with issues later?" Quinn pondered, and the brunette chuckled.

"Yeah, why do you think I drink so much?"

"Anyway," Quinn continued glumly, "I guess I'll get dressed."

"Do it. It'll be fine." Santana replied confidently, "Worst case scenario, you still get a free lunch."

They said their goodbyes and hung up, and after staring at her wardrobe for another few minutes, she finally decided on an outfit and changed quickly.

-oOo-

Rounding the corner, she saw Blaine waiting by the park gates. His hands were stuffed into the pockets of his jeans, and he was wearing a striped tshirt and red knitted sweater. She smiled when she saw him, and he was shifting his weight nervously. As she came nearer, he saw her and held up a hand in a wave, grinning widely. She waved back as she approached, and he held out his hand.

"Hi. We haven't officially met, my name is Blaine." He grinned playfully, and she giggled.

"Hey there. My name is Quinn."

"Well it's lovely to meet you, shall we go for some lunch?" He raised his eyebrows, and she nodded contentedly. Her mood had dramatically increased since her phone conversation with Santana. She hadn't had a single successful date so far, but even the worst wasn't that bad. Even if this date went horribly, at least she'd have a good story to tell.

"Yeah sounds great."

They made small talk as they crossed the street to the closest restaurant, and a few minutes later they were seated in a booth by the window, the blind pulled down to shield their eyes from the sun. Blaine plucked two menus from the stand and passed one across to Quinn.

"So, when did you start playing guitar?" He asked interestedly, and Quinn blew out a long breath as he contemplated it.

"Well, I never really had lessons or anything; my dad wasn't a big fan of the arts." She gave a small chuckle, but Blaine tutted sympathetically.

"I'm sorry to hear about your dad." He answered gently.

"Oh, he's not dead I'm afraid." She shook her head seriously, "I don't talk to him anymore, or my mom."

"That's drastic." He nodded slowly, "Mind if I ask why? Or is that too much for a first date?" He gave her a charming smile and she shrugged casually.

"No, I don't mind. My mom and dad were _very _controlling. And I mean controlling like you've never seen before." She shook her head with a small laugh, "They controlled when I went out, who with, when I did homework. Then they tried to control the rest of my life, too, and I decided I was bored of it. So when my best friend Santana came to New York, I came with her."

"Is this the Santana that Rachel hates?" He asked with a cheeky grin, and she giggled, nodding.

"Yeah. I'm sure you've heard lots of awful things about her from Rachel." He paused awkwardly for a moment before nodding, and she shrugged. "Yeah, they don't get on. To say the least. But for the most part they don't have to."

"You can't please all of the people all of the time." He added, and she nodded as the waiter approached the table.

They ordered quickly and easily, and as the waiter left, she turned back to Blaine, "So yeah, I came to New York and went to college and just sort of…picked it up there."

"Cool." He nodded.

"So, you? When did you start with all your music stuff?" She took a sip of her drink, looking up at Blaine, who shrugged.

"I suppose I've always done something musical, one way or another. My mom has countless home videos of me re-creating various musicals and singing in all sorts of situations." He rolled his eyes, looking embarrassed, "I've been playing different instruments my entire life; my dad is really into all kinds of music so…that was a big influence on me."

"So, aside from the open mic stuff, is music a part of your career?" She asked, tilting her head.

"Yeah, I'm actually also in musical theatre, just like Rachel. We're practically the same person." He laughed self-consciously and Quinn smiled, "Using open mic to try and get my name out. I also enjoy writing songs, obviously. I think my dream would be to write and star in my own musical." He paused thoughtfully, "Yeah, that's my dream."

"Well then, good luck. You follow that dream." She nodded enthusiastically, and he grinned.

"So what's your dream?" He asked bluntly, and Quinn bit her lip.

"Um…I don't really know." She shrugged, frowning, "I don't think I have one. It would be nice to find love, I suppose." Blaine shifted uncomfortably. "It would be nice to _not _end up an old spinster, living with Santana and forty three cats. Other than that, I don't know. I love my job so…that's all good."

"Well then, good luck." Blaine echoed her sentiments with a polite smile, as the waiter appeared over Quinn's shoulder, carrying their dishes. "So what about you, what's your job?" Blaine asked as the waiter was retreating.

"I articulate and construct home security devices including impregnable and safeguarded systems." She reeled off quickly, and Blaine sat dumbstruck for a moment, his mouth gaping open slightly.

"Um…"

"I'm a locksmith." She explained, and the boy chuckled.

"See, _that_ I can understand." He nodded, "Well, I have to say I did _not_ see that coming, but fair enough."

"So, what do you do apart from music? Are you into movies, TV?" She asked, her eyebrows raised.

"Yeah, I like TV I suppose. I don't have time to watch much, though. What kind of TV do you watch?"

"Anything really, from reality TV to action, drama, comedy. I always watch Game of Thrones with my best friend, have you seen it?" She looked up to the boy, but Blaine was shaking his head.

"No, I haven't. Although, I will admit I'm a total reality TV junkie. You know, The Bachelor, America's Next Top Model, Dancing with the Stars. Yeah, I can't get enough." He admitted guiltily, and Quinn chuckled.

"Wow. All the quality TV." She remarked cheekily, and he looked down at his plate, shaking his head, his cheeks burning. "At least you'll admit it though."

"I am not ashamed." He held up his hands in defence, "So, what's your favourite movie?"

"Uh…God, I don't know." Quinn frowned, "Maybe Mean Girls. Or I love Disney movies."

"Oh God!" Blaine grimaced comically, "This is so embarrassing, but I literally know every line from Mean Girls. I hate myself for it, but…"

"Do not hate yourself!" She pointed her index finger at him "'That's why her hair is so big. It's full of secrets!'"

Blaine laughed loudly. "Yeah, I love it. 'Say crack again.' 'Crack.'" They both chuckled, until Quinn finally regained her composure.

"So is that your favourite movie, too?" She asked, raising her eyebrows.

"That or Pretty woman. I know I'm supposed to say something manly like Armageddon or Die Hard or something." He rolled his eyes, "But truthfully, I'm not a big Bruce Willis fan and Armageddon just made me cry." Blaine grimaced, looking self-conscious, but Quinn simply shrugged.

"No, I like that you know what you like and you're not afraid to admit it. Personally, I've never seen Pretty Woman."

"You've never seen Pretty Woman?" He repeated, looking aghast, and the blonde giggled, shaking her head.

"No, is that a crime?"

"Oh my God. No, but you are _so _missing out!" He shook his head incredulously, "We have to watch it one day."

"Sounds good." Quinn smiled.

She paused for a moment, biting her lip thoughtfully as she considered her next question, "Blaine?"

"Yeah?" He looked up from his dinner with a polite smile.

"Can I ask you a _really_ blunt question?" She asked seriously. He looked confused for a moment, but nodded, frowning slightly.

"Sure. Go ahead."

"Are you gay?" She asked quickly, and Blaine's jaw dropped open slightly.

"Um…what?" He stuttered, glancing away shiftily.

"I'm not being rude, I just mean…are you? You like the Bachelor and you're in musical theatre. And now I'm realising just _how_ much of a stereotypical _ass_ I'm being, it's just…I'm getting a vibe." She shrugged, her face burning,

"No. It's okay." He shook his head, looking solemn.

"So…are you gay?" She asked casually. Blaine tilted his head, finally looking up at her.

"Yeah." He admitted reluctantly.

Quinn took a deep breath.

"That's okay." She sighed, rolling her eyes. "Me, too."

He frowned, "What?" His eyes narrowed in confusion, but Quinn simply shrugged.

"Yeah, I think I am, too." She replied casually.

"So…why did you come on this date with me?" He asked, looking slightly offended. She raised one eyebrow, the corners of her mouth twitching upwards with disbelief.

"_I could say the same to you!_"She exclaimed with a chuckle, and he looked away, his frown turning into a grin.

"I suppose you could." He admitted, giggling, "I'm sorry."

"It's okay." She shrugged, "So now we're two gays on a date."

"Is this now the worst date you've ever been on?" He asked guiltily, and Quinn bit her lip thoughtfully. "Umm…still no." She shook her head with a shrug, "I had a date where I pretended I went rock-climbing, you know, to seem cool and interesting?" Blaine nodded understandingly, "But he then proceeded to ask a _million _questions about rock-climbing. I had to make it all up and text my best friend when he went to the bathroom to get her to tell me what I'd said. Apparently I'm a real bad-ass."

Blaine laughed loudly, "Okay; that _is_ pretty awful. But I think I can top it." He held out his hands in preparation, taking a deep breath, "So, the reason I go on dates with girls is actually because…my mom doesn't know I'm gay. And she would not be happy about it." He grimaces guiltily, "So like three times a year I let her set me up so she doesn't suspect."

"Wow." Quinn's eyebrows lifted as she took in the new information, "That is extreme."

"I know, right?" He shrugged regretfully, "The other three-hundred-and-sixty-two days of the year, I'm Cher's biggest fan. Anyway, so I went on a date with this girl. We were in a restaurant, you know, dinner and wine. It was a great night, and afterwards we decided to go to the club across the street. Everything was going great. I mean, obviously it wouldn't go anywhere; I always bail at the end of the night and give my mom an excuse. So we're in this club, and we're dancing, and I guess I didn't notice how much wine she had drunk, or how little food she'd eaten, or how many cocktails she'd had at the bar or something." He frowned in confusion, shaking his head, "I don't know, either way, we're dancing and suddenly she, kind of, doubles over. I stopped dancing to see if she was okay, and notice that she has projectile vomited _all over _these other dancers; a girl and a guy. And I don't mean any guy. The guy was _easily_ the _biggest human being_ I have _ever _seen in my _life."_

Quinn's mouth was hanging open, "Oh my God. What happened?" She asked in an awed whisper.

"So this girl is all 'Oh my God, you freak!'" He mimicked her in a high voice, and Quinn giggled, "And this dude turns round. Only it's not just any dude. It is Mike Tyson."

The blonde girl gasped loudly, causing other diners to look over to them. They giggled, shifting awkwardly and bowing their heads. Blaine continued quietly,

"And he is _pissed_." He stared wide-eyed at Quinn, whose mouth twisted with horror. "So he's all 'Hey! Control yo' woman!' and I'm like 'I am so sorry.'" He grimaced comically, "But then, instead of apologizing like a normal human being, this girl starts arguing with them! She's like 'You shouldn't have been in my way, bitch!'" Blaine adopted a different voice for each impression, and Quinn chuckled as she took another bite of her food, enthralled by the boy's story. "So the whole thing just escalates until eventually, my date turns to _Mike Tyson,_ Former Heavyweight Champion of the _World, _and says, 'If you don't get this skank out of my face, my boyfriend will kick your ass.'" He paused for effect as Quinn's jaw dropped open once again, her expression a mixture of entertainment and horror. Blaine nodded as if to say 'I know'.

"Oh my God." She looked away, gazing around the restaurant in stunned silence, "So then what?"

"Mike Tyson squared up to me and said, and I quote, 'Go ahead, pretty boy.'"

"What did you do?" Quinn asked, her face a picture of wonder.

"What do you think I did?" He asked with a disbelieving laugh, "I literally ran out of there faster than I have ever ran _anywhere_. And I was once chased by a dingo."

"That's not true." She replied sceptically, her attitude less convincing thanks to her loud guffaw.

"One hundred per cent true. And one hundred per cent _less_ terrifying than being chased by Mike Tyson." He sat back in his chair, chuckling and shaking his head.

"Well…" Quinn tilted her head thoughtfully, "At least you have an amazing bad-date story."


	9. Chapter 9

**Say what you wanna say, and let the words fall out. Honestly, I wanna see you be brave**_** - Sara Bareilles, Brave**_

The next morning, Quinn woke early. She had endured a fractured night's sleep. Every time she managed to drift away, she would dream about coming out to her father, who would eventually, inevitably, turn into Mike Tyson. It would have been hilarious if she wasn't so tired. She dragged herself out of bed and stumbled down the stairs in her sleep shorts and bra, greeting Barney at the bottom and leading him to the kitchen.

Once she had poured herself some cereal, she made her way across to the couch. As she was searching for the remote control, there was a curious clicking noise, and the door suddenly burst open.

"Gay 'bray! Help me!" Santana moaned loudly as she slammed the door behind her.

Quinn let out a small squeak of panic, her eyes growing wide as she stumbled backwards into the coffee table. Her calf made contact with the bowl on the coffee table, spilling milk and fruit loops all over the floor. She raised her arms to shield her chest as Barney immediately bounded past her, lapping excitedly at the mess on the hardwood floor.

Santana squeezed her eyes shut, her face screwed up in a disgruntled grimace as she began screaming consistently, adding the occasional "_My eyes!_"

"Oh, would you relax?" Quinn shouted over the girl's commotion, and Santana stopped screaming. One hand over her eyes, she slowly and sensibly felt her way to the couch. Once she was stood beside it, her demeanor changed once again, and she continued screaming, throwing herself face down into the seat.

"My eyes! My eyes!"

"Oh, sweet Jesus." Quinn rolled her eyes. She nudged Barney with her foot to get him to move away from the mess, before crossing to the stairs, "_Santana!_ Clean up the mess, I'm going to go put some clothes on."

She jogged up the stairs as Santana stood up casually, heading to the kitchen and returning to calmly wipe up the mess. Quinn returned a few moments later wearing baggy boardshorts and an old t-shirt.

"So, hey!" She greeted fake-enthusiastically, crossing her arms as she stood glaring at Santana, "What's up?"

The brunette grimaced, "Aside from seeing you half naked, causing a burning sensation in my-"

"Pants." Quinn interrupted cheekily, and Santana's expression set tensely.

"How did I not see that coming?" She whispered, her eyes wild, "What has happened to me?"

The blonde frowned, narrowing her eyes suspiciously, "Okay, what is wrong with you?"

Santana sighed heavily, dropping down onto the sofa. She sat silently for a moment before leaning over, wrapping her arms around Barney and heaving him off the floor and onto her lap, pouting sullenly.

"You know that Becky girl?"

"Uh-huh." Quinn nodded, seating herself on the sofa so she was facing Santana and crossing her legs.

"Well, she wants to go on a trip." The brunette replied, her face set in a confused grimace.

"So?" The blonde shrugged.

"So…a trip is _serious_. That's _weird_." Santana shook her head in horrified disbelief.

"What?" Quinn's lip curled, "You go away on dirty weekends _all _the time. It's shocking."

"Banned from six of New York's best hotels." Santana boasted, nodding her head and sending Quinn a dirty wink. The blonde sneered.

"Then what's the problem?"

"She doesn't want to go away for a dirty weekend! I tried suggesting it as an alternative!" The brunette countered exasperatedly, throwing her hands up in despair. "She wants to go on a trip somewhere. Her husband's always away with business and she suggested we go on like…vacation. I mean, it's not just me, right? We've only seen each other like five times or something!"

"Okay, although you _are _a ridiculous commitment-phobe due to some form of childhood issues." Quinn began, "I _do_ agree with you. I'm hardly a relationship expert-" Santana snorted, "but it definitely sounds like it's moving too fast."

"I know!" The brunette gesticulated wildly as Barney shifted in her lap, "I'm supposed to just be her…bit on the side! I don't want to go on _vacation_ with her! Jesus, I thought married chicks were supposed to be less demanding. Why can't she just go on vacation with her husband?"

"This is _so_ ironic." Quinn added unhelpfully. Santana groaned, sighing heavily.

"So what do I do?"

"No idea. Wanna hear about my date?" The blonde grinned excitedly, "It was a good one!"

Santana glared at her, "Stellar advice, Q." She deadpanned. Rolling her eyes begrudgingly, she finally relented, her voice sullen, "Fine. How was your date?"

Quinn raised her eyebrows as if to say 'are you ready?' She smirked knowingly, took a deep breath and announced, "He was gay."

There was a split second of complete, stunned silence, before Santana erupted in a loud, uninhibited laugh.

"Oh my God, Q. Only_ you_ could pick a gay guy to try and date." She shook her head incredulously, "Jesus."

"He was also chased by Mike Tyson. And a dingo." Quinn added with a thoughtful nod, and Santana chuckled.

"This is hobbit dude from that bar?" The brunette questioned, delighted.

"Yup." Quinn admitted, "Truthfully, it was probably the best date I've ever had."

"Well, birds of a feather and all that." Santana remarked sardonically.

"Actually, I wanted to talk to you about that, too." The blonde nodded as Santana quirked an eyebrow, turning her head to look at Quinn.

"Ya gay, Fabray?" She asked nonchalantly.

The blonde stared at her for a moment, before nodding her head contentedly, "I reckon so, yeah."

"Huh." Santana nodded, turning to stare ahead of her again, "Okay."

Quinn's eyes narrowed apprehensively, "What?" She frowned, "That's it? 'Huh. Okay'?"

"Well, what do you want me to say?" The brunette scowled, shrugging defensively.

"I don't know. You've been giving me shit about this for _literally_ the majority of my life!" Quinn turned to sit straight, extending her legs and resting her feet on the coffee table, "It's just an anti-climax, that's all."

"Well, I'm sorry Quinn, anti-climaxes aren't usually my _thing_, but I'm going through a rough path today." She deadpanned sarcastically. The blonde tutted, rolling her eyes.

"Whatever. Just tell her you don't want to go on vacation!"

"Oh God, but I might hurt her feelings. And then I'll have to address the fact that she _feels_ things." Santana shuddered, grimacing.

"You are such a pig." Quinn shook her head, pushing herself to her feet and wandering through to the kitchen to pour another bowl of cereal, "Anyway, how am I supposed to tell Rachel that _even though_ she's been setting me up with _numerous_ boys, I like the ladies?"

"I would use those exact words." Santana called over her shoulder, ruffling behind Barney's ears. "Besides, aren't her hobbit elders gay?"

"Her _dads _are, yes." The blonde nodded, returning the milk to the fridge and slamming it shut. "But still, it could be a little weird. I'm just uncomfortable." She shrugged one shoulder as she sat down.

"Well then she won't care. I'm sure it'll be fine; you don't get weirder than Berry." Santana replied.

Suddenly, the brunette was wheezing loudly as the blonde dog stood up and launched himself off the sofa. She rubbed at the spot where his back legs had used her as a diving board, doubling over as Barney clattered and skidded across the hardwood floor, barking incessantly. Quinn sat forward in alarm, spilling milk and fruit loops down her t-shirt and onto her lap before depositing the bowl on the coffee table with a sigh. She stood quickly, shouting Barney's name to distract him.

As soon as the chaos had begun, it was over. With a loud thud, Barney's face collided with the large glass door in the corner, which led to a small balcony and the fire escape. Occasionally, Santana would use the balcony to smoke, and often in the summer they would sit out with their feet dangling through the railing and over the edge. Quinn once lost a shoe. The large blonde dog crumpled against the door with a small whimper.

Santana gasped loudly, leaping off the sofa as Quinn jogged across to Barney, who was now clambering to his feet, looking dazed and bewildered. The blonde cradled the confused retriever, the corners of her mouth twitching with amusement now that she was sure Barney was unhurt, while Santana crouched down and rubbed at his ears, pouting sympathetically.

"What was wrong with him? I mean, he's not the smartest dog – for a retriever – but still." She frowned curiously, and Quinn shrugged.

"I have no idea; he doesn't usually have that reaction to _anything._" She shook her head, her arms still wrapped around the dog as she peered out onto the balcony, "Oh wait, hang on." She raised an eyebrow and released Barney, who immediately fell into Santana's arms, enjoying the attention, and pushed herself to her feet. "There's a cat out there." She unlocked the door to get a better view, slowly edging out onto the balcony while Santana watched from within, her grip tightening on the temperamental Barney.

A smoky grey feline was curled in the corner of the balcony, resting against the railings at the edge. Quinn grimaced nervously, glancing back to Santana, whose face was comically horrified at the cat's dangerously teetering position.

"Do you think it's a stray?" The brunette asked quietly, tilting her head for a better view.

"Kind of looks like it." Quinn reasoned, "No collar – but lots of people don't put collars on cats – and it's pretty scruffy."

"Be careful." Santana frowned, "Cat bites can be pretty nasty."

"Well then be quiet so we don't scare it." The blonde hissed, and the other girl obliged sheepishly. "Here, here." Quinn made a clicking noise with her tongue, like she did to beckon the cats at Rachel's dads. "Come on, don't be shy." She patted the floor, and though the cat looked wary, it slowly crept across the balcony and, more importantly, away from the edge.

Santana breathed a sigh of relief as Quinn inched forward, holding out her hand. The cat bobbed its head, sniffing at her hand before sitting down beside her. The blonde grinned, slowly moving her hand to scratch the cat's head and ears, and the cat responded by pushing its head against her hand.

"So what do we do with it now?" Santana asked, frowning.

"I don't know." Quinn looked back to her, her mouth twisted indecisively, "It looks stray, but I'll put some posters up or something just in case." She pulled out her phone to take a photo of the cat.

"But what about until then? Could you take it to Berry's dads? Doesn't look like Barney likes it much." The brunette reasoned, but Quinn tilted her head from side to side.

"I don't know, they're already pretty overrun with animals. I wonder if it's a boy or a girl." She patted the ground on the other side of her, twisting her head and crouching down as the cat wandered by her in an attempt to derive the gender. "Okay, I _think _it's a girl."

"Barney is trying to escape." Santana moaned as the dog attempted to wriggle free from her grasp, "I don't get what's wrong with him, doesn't he always hang out with cats when the Berry's look after him?"

"Yeah he does." The blonde frowned, stroking down the cat's back, "Maybe let go of him, see what he does? Let's face it, if he tries to run you can grab _him_ and I'll grab _her_."

"This plan is simply fool-proof." Santana replied brightly, if sarcastically, "Okay, I'm letting go."

The dog slowly made his way across to Quinn, staring at the cat. The girl's exchanged a worried glance as Barney stuck his head out, sniffing at the cat, but she seemed unfazed.

"Well, okay. So…they're okay." Quinn nodded with a shrug and turned to Santana, "What should we call her?"

"What if she belongs to someone, though?" Santana frowned, "Do you really want to get attached?"

"Well it seems like they get along, so even if she _does _belong to someone, I'll be looking after her until then." The blonde reasoned, "I promise not to get attached." She smiled sweetly at Santana, who shook her head and rolled her eyes.

"If you say so."

"Pwease, Santana." Quinn pouted playfully, "Pwease let me name da kitty. I won't get attached." As she spoke, the cat wound its way onto her lap, curling up in the space between Quinn's crossed legs and lapping at the spilt milk. The blonde's face immediately broke into a look of pure adoration, and Santana rolled her eyes once more.

"Oh, I'm sure you won't." She replied sarcastically, joining Quinn and the animals on the balcony and sitting down beside them, her back resting against the wall. She reached out to scratch between the cat's ears, and the cat slowly closed its eyes contentedly, "She's very well-tempered. What shall we call her?"

"Smokie."

"Original."

"No. Original is a terrible name for a cat." Quinn replied flippantly, and Santana snorted.

"Smokie is too boyish." She countered, "How about…Casper? It's ghostly."

"That _is_ a boy's name!" Quinn argued, "Casper was a boy. There has _never_ been _any _girl _ever _called Casper."

"Pfft! Sexist." Santana answered, "And you call yourself a feminist."

"How about Sooty?" The blonde suggested.

"No, that implies that she's black. How about…Cobweb?"

"Cobweb?" Quinn raised her eyebrows, her mouth twisting thoughtfully.

"Cobweb." Santana repeated, tilting her head to the side as she gazed at the cat.

"I think I like it." The blonde nodded, "Cobweb. It suits her; coz she's kind of scruffy and fluffy and grey. It's perfect."

"A-thank you." The other girl nodded smugly. "Cobweb." She smiled triumphantly, and Quinn nodded.

"Hey, Cobweb." She grinned, stroking down the cats back, "Well first things first, we're gonna need to take you to the vet and check that you're alright, aren't we?"

"Should I get my car? You can sit with her while I drive." Santana pushed herself off the floor as Quinn nodded gratefully.

"Oh, that's awesome. Thank you!" She beckoned the animals inside, closing the glass door behind them. "Just let me go change. Despite Cobweb's best efforts, I'm covered in milk, _again_."

"You will be starving." Santana chuckled as she opened the apartment door. With a wiggle of her fingers, she was gone.

-oOo-

"Hey, Rachel?" Quinn chewed the inside of her cheek as she sat halfway up the spiral staircase.

"Hi, Quinn! How are you?" Rachel greeted brightly.

"I'm great, actually. I was just wondering what you were doing tonight? I know it's late notice but there's something I kind of wanted to talk to you about; nothing serious." She figured it would be easier just to jump straight in.

"Oh, I'm actually on my way to a date tonight, I'm sorry!" The brunette sighed, disappointed, "Hey, if it's a bust, I could come over afterwards?"

"So you _are _still dating!" Quinn chuckled, "I was starting to get suspicious of you harassing me to go on dates when your social life has seemingly been rather absent."

"No, I promise I'm still dating. Not just pressuring _you_ into dating." Rachel giggled, "Besides, it's barely harassment! You were starting to enjoy yourself, weren't you?"

"I suppose, yeah." The blonde relented.

"Talking of which, how was the date with Blaine?"

"Uh…not bad." Quinn replied non-commitally, "We had a fun time but just both agreed we, kind of had…different…interests."

"Oh, that's a shame. He's a really sweet guy." The brunette tutted, and Quinn made an agreeable noise, grimacing at the twist of truth.

"Anyway, if it's an awful date then feel free to come over but, it's no big deal, it can wait." She shrugged.

"Okay well, we'll see. Although, if I'm honest, I do have high hopes." Rachel began rambling, and Quinn did her best to stay focused as Cobweb leapt up the stairs to settle on her lap. Barney glared from the bottom. "His name is Brody, he's the best friend of the guy I'm closest to in the chorus and he's also in musical theatre. But he's like, totally successful. He's an amazing dancer; he's just finished a run in Chicago, and he's going into Jersey Boys next. He is so gorgeous it is painful." Quinn felt a pang of disappointment in her chest.

"Well, great!" She forced out, "That's awesome, and hopefully your date will go well!"

"I really hope so." The brunette groaned, adding in a whisper, "Maybe he's the one."

Quinn chuckled fondly, "Yep. Maybe. In fact, I'm sure of it. And if you do need an emergency, or it goes sour, just send me a text. I'm in for the night. Otherwise, I'll talk to you tomorrow?"

"Yeah I'll be free tomorrow night." Rachel replied brightly.

"Perfect." The blonde nodded decisively, "Oh, wait!"

There was a moment of silence, and Quinn was worried the girl had already hung up, until, "Yeah?"

"I also got a cat."

"You got what?" Rachel asked incredulously, "I think my signal must be bad."

"No, I got a cat. We found her on the balcony and took her to the vets. He said she's probably a stray but somehow doesn't appear to be diseased or have any nasty wounds or anything." She explained, "I took a photo and I'm going to print out some posters to stick up, just in case. We named her Cobweb."

"We?"

"Yeah, Santana was here when we found her. We named her Cobweb because she's grey and scruffy." Quinn scratched the cat's ear as she spoke, smiling as Cobweb pushed her head into Quinn's palm.

"I see. Well, be careful putting your number on posters all over New York." The brunette replied cautiously.

"Oh, I know. Don't worry, I'm not that stupid." She grinned evilly, "I used Santana's number."

Rachel chortled conspiratorially, "Nice move. Well, I have to go. But congratulations on the currently-new cat. I hope she doesn't have an owner already." She added brightly.

"Thank you." The blonde grinned, "So do I."

"Bye for now! I'll update you! Bye, bye, bye, bye, bye…" Rachel continued saying 'bye' until she hung up, and Quinn chuckled, shaking her head incredulously as she hung up the phone. She turned her attention to the smoky cat on her lap with a smile, "Well. I'd better start printing some posters for you, huh?"

She picked up the cat, which curled up in her arms, and made her way down the remaining steps and to the sofa. Depositing Cobweb beside her, she patted the sofa on the other side to beckon Barney, who leapt up eagerly. She pulled up the document and crossed to the printer to plug in her laptop, leaving it to print numerous copies before leading the animals to the kitchen to feed them. After preparing Barney's dinner and filling his bowl, she crossed to the new bag of cat foot and filled the cheap bowl hey had bought. If the cat turned out to be a stray, she would invest in better equipment. Until then, Cobweb would have to sleep on a blanket in a cardboard box. So far she didn't seem at all dismayed by the situation. If anything, the cardboard box was her favourite place in the apartment.

Once the animals were busy in the kitchen, she made her way across to the work desk in the corner, occupying herself with odd jobs, drawing plans and adding finishing touches. An hour or so later, she recovered a lasagne, donated by Hiram, heated it and ate it while she worked. When shapes began blurring and a persistent ache burrowed away behind her eyes, she decided it was time to give in. After turning out the bright light, she dragged herself across to the sofa and heaved Barney out of the way so there was room to sit down. As soon as she had got herself comfortable, Cobweb started scratching at the glass door. Rolling her eyes, she heaved herself up once again, unlocking the door and pushing it open enough for the cat to worm through the gap and escape into the night.

"You'd better come back later!" She called, watching as Cobweb flitted up the fire escape.

As she was turning back into the living room, her phone buzzed on the coffee table. Sighing heavily, she re-seated herself on the sofa and picked up her phone, pressing the answer button without looking at the caller.

"Hello?" She greeted through a large yawn, "Sorry about that, hello?"

"Hey, Quinn, it's me." Rachel replied; she sounded breezy, but slightly disappointed.

"Oh, hey. Are you okay? I thought you were on a date?" She asked, frowning. "Was everything okay?"

"Yeah, it was great! I mean, obviously I'm on my way home at…nine thirty – well, that's sad – but actually he was a great guy! He was funny, charming, polite; a total gentleman." The brunette finished with a shrug, and Quinn raised an eyebrow.

"Then why _are _you coming home at nine thirty?"

"Well, he said he was really sorry but he'd have to cut our night short-"

"Oh God, he didn't say there was an emergency, did he?" The blonde questioned scathingly, "Please tell me he gave you a better line than that."

"No, actually!" Rachel spat back, "He wasn't that cliché. And it wasn't like Brody left halfway through dinner or something. We finished dinner and he suggested we continue on somewhere for drinks, but then he remembered that actually he had to go; he's taking his mom to the hospital early tomorrow so he's staying over at her house and if he stayed out with me he would miss the last train." She sounded triumphant, and though her eyes narrowed suspiciously, Quinn relented.

"Okay, fair enough. Sounds like a nice guy." She nodded.

"Yeah, he really was." Rachel agreed happily, "So, anyway, now it's half past nine and I have nothing to do for the night; shall I come over? You said you wanted to talk about something."

"Um yeah. Yes I did." Oh God, now she was back to having to tell Rachel. Tonight. "Just get here when you get here, I'll be here all night."

"Okay, see you soon!" The brunette replied brightly. Quinn attempted to quell the nausea in her stomach.

"See you soon." She replied, her voice only shaking slightly.

-oOo-

There was a knock at the door a short while later, unfortunately at exactly the same time as Cobweb began scratching at the glass door and Barney leapt off the sofa and started trotting back and forth in front of the front door. Quinn hovered by the sofa, torn between letting Cobweb back in the apartment, getting Barney's lead and answering the door. Her face screwed up with the indecision as she bounced from side to side, her arms waving awkwardly.

"Quinn?" Rachel's voice called from the other side of the door, making her decision for her. She jogged across to the front door, opening it wordlessly before flitting back to the glass door, unlocking it quickly.

"Hey, don't bother taking your coat off!" The blonde greeted absent-mindedly, "I'm just letting Cobweb in and then Barney needs a walk."

"Oh. Right." Rachel nodded, frowning slightly, "Okay, no problem. I'll get Barney's lead."

While the brunette was attaching the collar and lead around Barney's neck, Quinn greeted the smoky grey cat with a smile, grateful she had returned.

"Hey there, little girl. We're just walking Mr Barn-door and then we'll be right back for you. There's water in the kitchen." She grinned, scratching between cobweb's ears before straightening up and joining Rachel by the door. "Hi, I'm sorry about that. It was just a…hectic moment. Anyway!"

She grinned and took the lead from Rachel, checking her pocket for her keys before leading them out of the apartment and down onto the street.

"So you wanted to talk to me?" Rachel started, her eyebrows raised expectantly, "I mean, we can talk about it later, if you'd prefer?"

"Um…no." Quinn shrugged, "I suppose I could tell you now, yeah." She took a deep breath, considering how to explain herself and trying not to wonder how Rachel would react.

She gazed around at the dark buildings around them as they walked. Light from shop fronts and restaurants spilled out onto the sidewalk, while the sky above them darkened and pinprick stars blossomed slowly. She swallowed hard, and took a deep breath,

"Okay so…you know I've been going on all these dates?" Rachel nodded, "Well, _obviously_ none of them have worked out…"

"Yeah, but we'll find you the right guy!" The brunette added cheerily. Quinn stifled a giggle, instead giving the girl a tilted nod of her head.

"Well, maybe!" She replied with an optimistic shrug, immediately pausing to shake her head with a frown, "Actually, no. We won't. Because, here's the thing…there hasn't actually been anything _wrong _with those guys – I mean, aside from gay Blaine-"

"Blaine's _gay_?" Rachel repeated, her jaw dropping open and her eyes widening with awe.

"_Really?"_ Quinn glared at Rachel, "You _really_ didn't see it?" The brunette shrank back slightly, and Quinn continued, "Anyway, there was nothing actually _wrong_ with those guys. It was, well, more about _me_." Rachel opened her mouth to speak, but the blonde held up a hand, "It's okay. I just, God I'm not explaining this very well, I just mean that all of those guys were really nice, it's just that I'm not…looking for…a…guy." She trailed off awkwardly, her suffering made even worse by the fact that Barney chose that exact moment to stop walking and cock his leg against a lamppost.

Shifting her weight from foot to foot, Quinn dared a glance at Rachel as the brunette rolled her eyes, "Oh, Quinn. Don't start this again." She chuckled, shaking her head, "Why are you suddenly changing your mind?"

"Well, um," Quinn frowned, "It's not like I…_changed my mind_ exactly. It was more like…something I discovered over time."

"But you were having so much fun! I _know_ you were, you admitted it!" Rachel argued good-naturedly. The blonde's mouth hung open slightly, her brow knitted in confusion.

"Well, I can still have fun! I mean, look at Santana. All she _does_ is have fun!" Quinn waved her hands as she spoke, shrugging exaggeratedly as Barney set himself straight, standing patiently until they started walking once more.

"So, what?" Rachel raised an eyebrow sceptically, "You're just going to sleep around instead?"

"Rachel!" The blonde scolded, her eyes wide with offended horror, "I can't believe _you_ of all people would say that! You know as well as _anyone_ how unfair it is to stereotype people."

"Stereotyping? I'm hardly stereotyping." She scoffed, "If you want to mould yourself after Santana then fine, but I'd hardly call it stereotyping." She held up her hands defensively, and Quinn's eyes narrowed.

"I can't believe you! After everything you've been through with your dads? We're not all the same you know; just because Santana is easier than level once of _Tetris_, doesn't mean that I'm the same!" The blonde shook her head slowly, "I just…I thought you'd be a _little_ more understanding than that."

"Okay, I think we're getting confused here." Rachel frowned, "Why are you getting so mad at me? I mean, fine if you want to stop dating then that's your choice. I just think that maybe you should be a little more careful than Santana is." She shrugged, "I just, want you to be safe."

"Rachel, just because I'm gay, doesn't mean I want to stop dating!" She countered, shaking her head cluelessly.

"You're _gay_?" Rachel repeated disbelievingly, "Why didn't you tell me?"

"_What?_" Quinn stopped walking, her face twisting in confusion, "I just did!"

"_That's_ what you were telling me?" The brunette asked shrilly, turning to face Quinn.

"What did you _think_ I was telling you?" She shrugged her shoulders, her eyebrows shooting up to her hairline. Her pitch was getting higher and higher.

"I thought you were saying you wanted to stop dating!" Rachel shrieked. She paused thoughtfully, "And, I also kind of thought you were telling me you wanted to sleep around."

"What? Why would I want to sleep around?!" Quinn asked incredulously.

"Well, you said about Santana having fun. I thought you meant…never mind." She shook her head, her cheeks turning pink. "So you're gay?"

"I think so." Quinn nodded. A moment of thick silence hung between them for a second. Her confession had almost become lost in all of the confusion; now it was out there, and all that was left was to talk about it.

"You _think_?"

"Well, not really. I think I _know_." She shrugged awkwardly, and Rachel nodded.

"I see. Well, fair enough." The brunette shrugged, "I'm pretty sure I know some girls I could set you up with, too." She smiled sweetly before turning away, and continuing to walk back in the direction of the apartment. Quinn chuckled to herself, before following after the brunette. "I'm so glad you haven't decided to stop dating." Rachel continued, "I was having far too much fun setting you up."

The blonde shook her head slowly with a sigh, "I know, right? How could I ever deprive you of such entertainment?" Suddenly, she chortled loudly, "God, how distraught will you be when I _do_ eventually find someone?"

"You're very sure of yourself." Rachel smirked, "I'll just have to find another poor singleton to offer my services to."

Quinn raised an eyebrow, "You might wanna keep your voice down when you're talking about your 'services'. This is a very shady neighbourhood."

"Oh, please! This is one of the least shady neighbourhoods for miles around." The brunette countered, giggling, "Anyway, how do you know you'll ever stop needing my services?" She asked cheekily.

"Well firstly, your constant support of me is touching." Quinn deadpanned, "Secondly, I have a pact with Santana. Admittedly, it's a pact she _probably_ doesn't remember making, but if it looks like I'm going to end up old and alone, I'm invoking it."

"Fair enough." Rachel nodded, "Do you think I could get Brody to make a pact like that with me?" She asked cheerily, gazing at her surroundings thoughtfully.

"Mm." The blonde frowned, "I think once you've been on a date with someone, that '_pact_' just becomes a proposal. And that might be a little too soon."

"Ugh, technicalities." Rachel's lip curled as she rolled her eyes, turning into Quinn's building and following the two blondes up the stairs.

Quinn unlocked her apartment door and unclipped Barney's lead and collar, scratching his neck before pulling off her jacket and hanging it on a peg. She took a deep breath, letting it out in a long sigh.

"Ugh, I'm so relieved to have that off my chest." She chuckled, curling one leg beneath her as she sat down on the couch. Rachel sat down beside her, pulling her knees up to her chest with a curious frown.

"You seem a little _too_ relieved. Were you nervous?"

Quinn game a small shrug, her mouth twisting self-consciously, "Um, yeah? I suppose. A little."

Rachel's smile grew into a grin, and she nudged the blonde with her elbow, "You're lying. You were _so _nervous."

"I was terrified." The blonde admitted in a conspiratorial whisper, as Cobweb jumped up to lay beside her.

"Oh, so this is the cat?" Rachel cooed, reaching over Quinn to hold out her hand for the cat to sniff before stroking down the length of her back, "Anyway, why would you be scared of telling me? I was raised by two dads!"

"Well, yeah, I mean…_obviously _I knew you'd be accepting of it." Quinn rolled her eyes, "Although to be fair, at first you weren't-"

"That was a misunderstanding."

"Yeah, but it wasn't that. I was more nervous of telling you that all your time and effort on setting me up with those guys had been wasted. I didn't want you to think I'd lied to you." She shrugged her shoulders again, and Rachel nodded slowly.

"I understand that. But you don't have to worry. And as for setting you up, I am_ offended_ that you would call that a waste of time." She giggled, "So worth it."

Quinn chuckled, shaking her head, and reached for the remote control. After flicking through a few channels, they finally agreed on a bizarre program about odd couples. The blonde's lip curled in horrified bemusement as she watched the pair on the screen, whilst Rachel's eyes grew wider and wider as her jaw dropped open.

"_Wow_. That is a _mighty_ fine beard she's got there." The blonde observed casually.

"Her eyebrows meet in the middle." Rachel frowned. Barney was stood by her, staring from Rachel's face to the TV screen patiently. The girl turned to him with a grin, patting the space beside her and allowing him to jump up. She stretched her legs out as the blonde dog forced his way onto her lap, but his owner was oblivious as her eyes followed the couple on screen.

"Ooh." Quinn added, "_He's_ wearing a woman's tank top. _And_ _hot pants_. WHAT IS HAPPENING?!"

Both girls began laughing, and Rachel managed to control herself enough to take a breath, "I tell you what," The brunette shook her head, "There is someone for_ everyone _out there."

"Oh my God! Now they're eating out of trash cans!" Quinn pointed the remote at the screen, her face a disgusted grimace as Rachel continued giggling and shaking her head.

"Oh, dear God. Please turn it off. I beg you."

"There's nothing else!" The blonde defended through her laughter, "It's this or the man who eats pubic hair."

"Why are you incapable of watching normal TV?" Rachel demanded, dropping her hands so they slapped against the sofa cushion.

"I watch normal TV!" Quinn defended, pausing thoughtfully, "I watch Game of Thrones. And Orphan Black. And American Horror Story."

"Incest, murder, satan, war, clones, impregnating aliens, nazi war criminals and a dragon lady who eats someone's heart. Spoiler alert: Not that normal." Rachel rattled off her list with alarming ease, and the blonde grimaced comically.

"I see your point." She nodded, handing the remote control to Rachel in an obvious gesture. The brunette grinned triumphantly, snatching the remote and rubbing Barney's ears as she began to flick through the channels. Quinn turned, defeated, to pout at Cobweb, who stretched out languidly beside her.


	10. Chapter 10

**Hello, I love you. Won't you tell me your name? - _The Doors, Hello, I Love You_**

It was almost noon when Quinn sniffed, a tickling sensation causing her to wiggle her nose, and pull her head back slightly. She was aware of a weight on her left arm, and gave a large yawn, lifting her head off the pillow and blinking her eyes open. She stared down the length of the bed, finding Rachel laid in the crook of her arm, the girl's head resting just below her collarbone. Dropping her head back onto the pillow, she smiled slightly and closed her eyes once more. Her nose felt tickly again, and she lifted her hand to brush Rachel's hair back, away from her face. Unconsciously, she inhaled as she did so, and the scent of the brunette's mango and papaya shampoo filled her lungs.

The movement made the smaller girl stir, and Rachel shifted her weight slightly, rubbing at her eyes before dropping her arm onto Quinn's stomach. The blonde opened her eyes, staring up at the skylight as Rachel yawned, sliding back slightly and arching her back. Quinn wasn't entirely sure if Rachel was fully awake yet, and was feeling vaguely uncomfortable with the way the brunette was pushing her torso against her ribcage. Not that it wasn't a nice sensation, but indulging and enjoying the movement felt a little…tainted. Like a guilty pleasure; if Rachel wasn't doing it intentionally, then it was just a little creepy. She shifted over slightly, but the brunette clasped a hand around her middle and pulled her closer.

Quinn's eyes narrowed slightly as she glanced down at the smaller girl, considering what was happening. _Was_ it actually happening? Oh God, maybe it wasn't. Last night Rachel Berry was on a date with some guy named Brody…today Quinn woke up with said Rachel Berry wrapped around her midriff. Surely it can't be happening.

While Quinn was questioning her mental state, Rachel stirred once again, this time rolling onto her back and pushing herself up onto her elbows, yawning widely, "God, I'm so sorry." She groaned, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment.

"It's okay." Quinn shrugged, attempting to sound casual and not at all disappointed, "I don't mind."

"I guess I'm a snuggler." Rachel chuckled, raking her fingers through her hair in an attempt to straighten it. "You're lucky you didn't wake up with me laid on top of you."

Quinn swallowed. "Yeah…you might have…suffocated me." She frowned, wondering to herself why she had said that. It was true that she was tired, but she suspected that she hadn't sounded as breezy and jovial as intended. More offensive.

The smaller girl turned her head to look incredulously at the blonde, "Well thanks, Quinn. There's a confidence boost to start my day." She giggled again, and Quinn shook her head.

"I was joking." She attempted to defend in a small voice, but quickly gave in, "I'm very tired."

"You're tired?" Rachel echoed disbelievingly, rolling onto her stomach, her side pressed against Quinn's once more, "Aren't you the girl that gets up every day at like…six am or something?"

"You're exaggerating!" She replied, digging her elbow into Rachel's ribs and making the girl shriek and giggle, "Besides, I've had a very long week."

"Awh, sweetie." The brunette cooed exaggeratedly, giving Quinn a sympathetic pout. "Want me to make you some breakfast?"

Quinn took a deep breath, letting it out slowly, "Yeah."

Rachel nodded, immediately pushing her palms into the mattress and moving to get up, but guilt overtook the blonde and she grabbed the other girl's wrist, shaking her head as she tugged it out from under her. Without the support, Rachel suddenly crumbled back onto the bed, giggling furiously, "What? I meant it; I'll make breakfast!"

"No, I can't let you do that. I'd feel too bad if I didn't help you; come on." Quinn chuckled, pushing herself up and twisting to hang her legs over the side of the bed. She stretched languidly as Rachel bounded off the bed once more and jogged straight down the stairs.

The blonde watched her go, shaking her head incredulously before yawning and following after the brunette. Rachel was already greeting Barney at the bottom as Quinn wandered down the stairs, fussing over him and rubbing excitedly behind his ears. "What do you want for breakfast, mister?" the brunette was asking in a comical, growly voice.

"Well, _he_ doesn't actually eat breakfast, as you know, and I only have cereal. So we can have cereal. Or cereal." Quinn nodded solemnly as she crossed to the kitchen and began rummaging through the cupboard, "Ooh! I stand corrected." Rachel appeared from round the corner, Barney milling around her feet.

"What is it?" She asked mock-excitedly.

"Cereal." The blonde finished, whirling round holding up two different boxes. Rachel shrugged and gestured to the boxes.

"Either." She shrugged. Quinn nodded and turned to retrieve two bowls as the brunette's phone pinged from the living room. "Ooh!" She jumped excitedly and skipped across to answer it.

"Waiting on good news?" Quinn called as she glugged milk into the bowls.

"You could say that." Rachel replied coyly, winking cheekily and she crossed to stand behind Quinn, stretching an arm around her to pick up her cereal bowl.

The blonde's breath caught in her throat as Rachel's arm brushed against her own, her torso pressed against Quinn's back. She swallowed hard and took her own bowl, quickly moving away to the cutlery drawer, her heart pounding.

"So who was it?" She asked, attempting to focus on the subject at hand as she followed Rachel to the dining table and sat down, crossing her legs on the chair.

"Well, actually there were two emails." Rachel began. Quinn could forgive the slight smugness to the girl's tone, as it was obvious how overjoyed the brunette was. "So…the first one was from Brody – I knew it!" She took a moment to dance in celebration, "_He _said 'I'm so sorry about last night. Got my mom to the hospital and everything is great, hopefully we can do something again soon? Kiss kiss kiss.' See?!" She slammed her phone down on the table, making her spoon wobble before clapping delightedly.

"That's awesome!" Quinn nodded, ignoring the churning in her stomach, "I'm so happy for you. You were right, and he _does _seem like a sweet guy." She grinned at the brunette, who then picked up her phone once more to tap out a reply.

"I know, right? Okay, and the other one…" She grimaced as she read the text, before lifting her head to smile awkwardly at Quinn, "needs a little explaining."

"What did you do?" The blonde joked, narrowing her eyes in mock-suspicion. But Rachel did not laugh.

"So…I know this girl." Rachel wasn't even given time to finish as Quinn dropped her spoon into her bowl with a loud clatter. It had been hovering near her mouth, and the fall had caused milk to splash over onto the table and Quinn's arm, but she ignored it as she gaped incredulously at Rachel, who squirmed under her gaze.

"_Already_? _Seriously_? _ALREADY_?" She waved her arms wildly as she demanded answers to questions she hadn't really asked.

Rachel sat staring timidly into her cereal, resisting a giggle that was threatening to bubble up. She dared a glance upwards and nodded quickly when she met Quinn's eye. "Don't be angry." She whispered, and the blonde shook her head disbelievingly, rolled her eyes and sighed heavily.

"I thought it would take you at least a day! It's been like…" She looked to the clock on the wall, "Fifteen hours! Now I owe Santana thirty bucks!"

"What? Why?" Rachel suddenly looked aghast, and Quinn shrugged, glaring at her.

"Because! Ugh. She said that when I told you, I'd have nothing to worry about and you'd have set me up the same day. I said I was sure you'd wait at least a day after I told you. She said 'put your money where your mouth is Fabgay.'" Quinn held up air quotes and imitated Santana bitterly.

"Well I'm sorry if I only want you to be happy!" The brunette glared back, "How awful of me."

Quinn sighed heavily, "Would you be willing to pretend this conversation wasn't happening until tomorrow?" She raised an eyebrow hopefully, but Rachel tilted her head as if to say 'really?' and the blonde huffed.

"I can't. And even if I _could_, I _wouldn't._ It serves you right for betting on me!" She chuckled slightly, and Quinn grimaced with disappointment.

"Fine." She rolled her eyes begrudgingly, "Santana's lucky day." Suddenly, she frowned, "Hold on. What do you mean, you 'can't'?"

"Um…well, I said it needed explaining." She shrugged guiltily, "I can't pretend this conversation hasn't happened today. Because I know this girl…who is up for going on a date with you. Today."

"_Today_? _What_ is wrong with you? Literally; what?" Quinn finished her cereal, shaking her head slowly, and pushed her bowl away before resting her elbow on the table and dropping her head onto her palm. "I know Santana said you'd be trying to set me up within twenty-four hours, but I didn't think you'd succeed!"

"Well then stop underestimating me." Rachel replied matter-of-factly, and Quinn sighed.

"Ugh. You're like Inspector Gadget on speed." She glared once again, and the brunette nodded, giggling.

"So anyway!" She grinned, "Her name is Tina. She's really cute and she works in publishing. She's the whole package, you know; good job, an awesome apartment, a sense of humour. She's great."

"Okay…how do you know her?" Quinn asked pointedly, and Rachel rolled her eyes.

"She's not a stranger!" The brunette replied defensively.

"How do you know her?"

"Okay, there's this guy called Mike; he's in the chorus of my show. And she's his little sister." She explained brightly, giving a small shrug, but Quinn's eyes narrowed again and she grimaced with confusion.

"So you know her brother. Not _her_." The blonde quirked a sceptical eyebrow, and Rachel rolled her eyes.

"Stop being so defeatist! And I actually _do _know her. I mean, _obviously_ I know Mike _better_. But he talks about her _all _the time and she's been to visit a few times so I _have_ spoken to her _and _spent time with her. I just had to ask Mike for her number." She shrugged once more, and Quinn shook her head.

"This is ridiculous."

"And that is how the best love stories start." The brunette countered, and Quinn snorted.

"Yeah, sure. So why have you _already_ arranged for me to go on a date with her?" She raised an eyebrow, "What if I'd had plans?"

Rachel gave a loud laugh, "Quinn, please."

The blonde rolled her eyebrows before relenting with a nod, "Fine. But still!"

"Besides, I thought you may be experiencing some first-time jitters over the whole homosexual dating thing, so I thought I'd organise something a little less formal than…a dinner date, for example." She grinned, nodding encouragingly, and Quinn raised her eyebrows.

"And what's that, then?"

"You're just going for coffee. That's it."

"Coffee in…Madison Square Gardens?"

"No."

"Coffee on…the boating lake at Central Park?"

"No!"

"Coffee with…the cast and crew of The Phantom of the Opera?"

"_No!_" Rachel slapped her hand against the table, and the blonde chuckled contentedly at the effect her teasing had. "It's just coffee!"

She held up her hands defensively, suddenly mock-indignant, "Well _I'm sorry_, I'm so used to you not doing anything by halves."

"You're going for coffee. At two o'clock." The brunette instructed her, and Quinn saluted cheekily.

"Aye, Captain."

-oOo-

Quinn munched on a donut as she wandered the streets en route to the coffee shop where she had arranged to meet Tina. Or rather, where _Rachel_ had arranged for her to meet Tina. She was torn between freaking out over her first date with a girl, and barely caring at all. It wasn't that she didn't _care_, exactly. It was just that, her heart wasn't exactly racing at the sound of this Tina. Not that her heart had raced at the prospect of _any_ of her dates so far. Wow, dating was depressing when you chose to reflect. Huh. She pushed the thought out of her mind, and focused back on Tina. She worked in publishing, so at least the chances were that they had probably read some of the same books. So there was something in common. Apparently she also drew her own comic, which was pretty cool if you liked anime. Quinn, however, had literally never shown_ any_ interest in anime in her entire life. Which was a shame.

She hadn't seen a photo of Tina yet, but Rachel had informed her that the girl would be wearing a green coat and a red dress with white polka dots. Quinn was wearing jeans. And a t-shirt. She was taking pride in the fact that they were both clean on, and both had been bought within the last two years.

As she rounded a corner, she found herself standing opposite the coffee shop, where she could already see Tina (or rather, who she assumed to be Tina. The red and white dress and green coat gave the game away a little) sitting on a high stool at a bar in the window. She took a deep breath, steeling her nerves, and made her way across the road, pushing into the coffee shop with a ready smile.

Approaching from behind, she reached out to tap the girl on the shoulder, attempting to stand still without fidgeting nervously. Tina whirled round on her rotating stool, smiling readily, but her face suddenly dropped.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I thought you were somebody else; can I help you?" She asked politely, and Quinn frowned. She opened her mouth to speak, her eyes narrowed, before closing it again.

"Um, sorry. Are you Tina?" _Smooth line, Quinn._

"Yes…why?" The brunette frowned, "Do I know you?"

"I'm Quinn." The blonde explained, holding out her hand with a nervous smile.

"Oh." Tina nodded slowly, accepting the hand-shake awkwardly. There was a moment of uncomfortable silence before Quinn stepped over to the stool beside Tina.

"So, what would you like to drink?" She offered politely, and Tina looked unsure for a moment, her mouth hanging open before she nodded.

"Um, yes. Latte, please."

Quinn grinned, nodding before hopping off the stool and crossing to the counter. She ordered their drinks quickly and carried them back to where Tina was sitting, tapping furiously at her cell phone. Ignoring an uneasy feeling in the pit of her stomach, she plastered on another smile as she placed Tina's drink down in front of her. The brunette smiled awkwardly before putting her phone away.

"So…you work in publishing?" Quinn raised her eyebrows, but Tina simply nodded.

"Yeah. It's really great." She gave a tight smile, "You?"

"Um, I'm a locksmith. I design and build bespoke security systems, officially. Or at least, that's what it says on my website. Mostly I find myself eating cereal with various trespassers in my apartment." It was meant to be a joke, but Tina did not laugh. Quinn attempted to muffle a sigh, and took a large sip of her drink. "And, uh, Rachel said you draw your own anime?"

"It's not anime. It's manga." The girl deadpanned, and Quinn nodded.

"Oh, I'm sorry. To be honest, I don't know very much about comic books." Quinn admitted guiltily, and Tina cut her eyes at her. Quinn's skin prickled.

"They're not comic books. They're not about 'Spiderman' or 'The Avengers' or whatever other mainstream characters the world is _obsessing_ over." Shame. Quinn had rather an extensive knowledge of superheroes.

"Oh. Well. Cool." She nodded, her smile tense. Another silence fell between them, the only noise coming from the faraway roar of the milk frother, and Quinn gulped another mouthful of coffee, enjoying the burning sensation in her throat. "I'm sorry, can I ask you something?"

"Um…sure?" Tina shrugged, staring into her cup.

"Is there something wrong?" The blonde tilted her head questioningly, but the girl still frowned into her coffee, "Like, I don't know I feel like I'm not…what you were…expecting?"

"You're not." Tina replied bluntly. Quinn's jaw dropped open incredulously, and she glanced around the coffee shop with disbelief.

"Um…okay? So…what were you expecting?" She asked with a bemused frown.

"You're not Asian." Tina finally me her eyes with a bored gaze.

"_Rachel told you I was Asian?"_ She gawped, her eyes wide and eyebrows raised with half horrified, half amused, shock.

"Well, yeah. Otherwise I wouldn't have agreed to come." The brunette replied sullenly, and Quinn's expression morphed into a confused grimace.

"So…you _only _date Asian people?" She clarified, her eyes narrowed with interest.

"Well, yeah. I mean, no offence but why would I want to date…" She trailed off quietly, and Quinn's eyebrows shot up to her hairline once more, "I just mean, I believe in my culture and I would like to marry within it."

"That is _not _what you were going to say." The blonde half-laughed. Shock had emboldened her, and she felt the urge to discover exactly what this Tina's opinions were.

"You know what I mean, though. I just, why would I want to go out with some whiney white girl? Plus, it's bad enough that I had to tell my entire family that I wanted to be with girls; adding this would kill them."

"I literally don't know what you mean at all." Quinn replied bluntly, "Unless you mean that you're a racist. In which case…I got that."

"I'm not a racist!" Tina countered angrily, and the blonde glanced around the coffee shop self-consciously. Luckily, it was now empty. "I just want to date within my own race."

"Which means you're not willing to date outside of your own race. Is that not a little racist?" Quinn questioned with a frown.

"Whatever, throw around whatever accusations you want." Tina shrugged, "I'm sorry the date hasn't worked out or whatever. I'm sure you'll find someone." She gave Quinn a pitying smile, and the blonde's jaw dropped incredulously again.

"Well, I'm sorry I'm not 'within your culture'." The blonde replied sarcastically, "And I will find someone. Someone who isn't an Asian supremacist." She drained the rest of her drink before placing it heavily back on the counter and hopping off her stool, "See you later, Tina. Good luck with the whole Asian girlfriend thing." She waved a hand behind her as she left the shop, already pulling her phone out of her pocket and dialling a familiar number.

"Hey! How was it?"

"_I'm Asian?!_" She shouted incredulously down the phone, and a group of near-by teenagers stopped playing piggy-in-the-middle to give her funny looks. She turned away, hiding her flushing cheeks, and crossed the road.

"Oh. It didn't work out?" Rachel hummed disappointedly, and Quinn's fists clenched in frustration.

"Of course it didn't work out! She's practically a racist, Rachel. And more importantly, _why did she think I was Asian?" _This time it was a man pushing a stroller, who looked at her disgustedly. Once again she crossed the road, reminding herself to speak quieter from now on.

"Well…Okay. I know she only dates Asian girls but I mean, you're so awesome and funny and sweet. And I thought that if anyone could eradicate her current views and generate a development of attitude, it was you. I thought you would make a cute couple, that's all." Rachel shrugged as she defended herself, adding in a timid voice, "I'm sorry."

"It's fine." She sighed. "Just one more to add to the list of _horrifying_ date stories."

"It can't have been that bad!" Rachel argued hopefully, and Quinn snorted.

"Rachel, I arrived less than twenty minutes ago and I'm already two blocks away. It was terrible."

"I'm sorry!"

"It's fine. Just…next time, make sure you're not setting me up with a discriminative bigot, please. Can you do that? I don't care how, subject them to an intensive personality dialysis if you have to." Rachel chuckled, and the surreal bad mood Tina had put her in was lifted. She giggled along with the girl, shaking her head in bemusement, "It was_ so_ ridiculous."

"Oh God. You'll have to tell me all about it later." The blonde replied, and Quinn nodded.

"Oh, I will. Anyway, I'll let you go. Just thought I'd yell – I mean _tell_ – you about it. I'll see you later."

"Byeeeeee!" Rachel squealed as she rung off.

Quinn stopped and slumped against a wall with a sigh, dropping her head backwards to stare up at the sky. She pulled out her phone once again, scrolling to Santana's number and lifting it to her ear as the dial tone rang out. Just as she was about to give up, the call was answered by a breathless Santana.

"Hel- woah, oops, hello?"

"San? What are you doing?" Quinn frowned, cutting straight to the point.

"Um, nothing." She replied guiltily, and the blonde snorted.

"What are you doing?" She asked in a sing-song voice, and Santana growled under her breath. "Are you at _Becky's?" _She asked teasingly, and the brunette huffed.

"No. I'm not."

"Ooh, is that over? Tell, tell, tell."

"No it's not over. I'm just…not at Becky's." Santana attempted to sound care-free, but Quinn recognized the tell-tale signs. Hushed tones, withholding information. Classic Santana.

"So where are yo-" As she was speaking, a siren cut through the conversation, deafening the blonde, "What the-"

"Quinn, I gotta go. I'll call in like…five minutes." She hung up before the blonde could argue, and Quinn narrowed her eyes suspiciously, staring down at the phone for a few seconds before pocketing it and continuing down the street.

She felt a little lost now. She had assumed that her afternoon would have been taken up by the date with Tina. Maybe not the entire afternoon, but certainly more than…almost eleven minutes. She wondered if she could now class that as her worst date, and the thought occurred to her to text Blaine and tell him about it. Smiling to herself, she made a split-second decision, and ducked into a bar on her left.

As soon as she stepped through the dark doorway, she regretted it. A dank staircase led down to a basement floor, and she tentatively began to descend. The walls were stained with nicotine and the paint was peeling in places, whilst the carpet felt sticky underfoot. She considered turning back, but forced herself to be brave. Once she reached the basement bar, she had to admit she felt better. The basement was somehow brighter than the staircase had been, and though it was slightly shabby, it was clean and stylish and, most importantly, empty. She sighed heavily and crossed to the bar, pulling herself up onto a stool and pulling out her phone.

**I'm drinking in a basement bar, on my own, at 2.30 in the afternoon. Trying new things? Q :D x**

She sent that one to Sam, before composing a message to Blaine.

**Just went on a date with a girl who only dates Asians. She was v disappointed. Then I called her a racist. She was v angry. It was hardly being chased by Mike Tyson, but it may have topped my list. Q :)**

And after she had sent that one, she locked her phone and sat it on the bar in front of her, waiting for Santana's call. There was no one to be seen in the bar, and for a moment she worried that it was actually closed, and she was trespassing. Maybe someone would call the police. Oh God, she could be arrested. And who would she call to save her? Rachel? Santana? Oh God.

Thankfully, just as she was about to panic and run screaming, a leggy blonde with a beaming smile appeared behind the bar.

"Hey, can I help you?" She had piercing blue eyes, and Quinn took a deep breath, smiling politely.

"Um, yeah. Just…just a soda please." She nodded nervously, but the blonde raised an eyebrow.

"Really?" She frowned, "You came down to a shady basement bar in the early hours of the afternoon for…what? A cola?" Quinn nodded, "No way. Have something better."

"What do you mean?" She frowned.

"Have something better." The girl insisted. "Anything. Just something with balls, that's all. Long Island Ice Tea? A Margarita?" She shrugged, and Quinn stared back, speechless.

"Okay. Long Island Ice Tea." She nodded seriously. "Hit me."

"Woah there, cowboy." The blonde grinned as she collected various bottles, "Easy on the lingo, people will think you're a regular."

"If my life continues like this, I may become one." Quinn replied flippantly, and the girl raised an eyebrow.

"I'm sure that I'm not supposed to ask…?" She trailed off curiously, and Quinn took a deep breath.

"Well, I have a tiny crush on my best friend, who just set me up on a date with an Asian supremacist. My other best friend is currently sneaking around somebody else's property, most likely with somebody else's wife. So far I have been on a date with a needy rock-climber, the male version of myself, a gay guy, and of course…"

"The Asian supremacist." The girl behind the bar nodded interestedly before passing the drink across to Quinn.

"Yup. Precisely."

"Well, at least you can't complain that your life is boring." The girl replied brightly, giving Quinn a huge grin.

She chuckled, nodding slowly, "Yeah, I suppose you _are_ right." The bar girl opened her mouth again, but Quinn's phone buzzing on the bar interrupted, and she quickly answered it.

"Santana?"

"Hey, Q!" The girl answered cheerily.

"What the hell happened?" She demanded.

"Okay, so I was at work doing a, uh…_house call_. If you know what I mean. You know, I was-"

"_I know what you mean_! Dear _God_, I know what you mean." Quinn cut her off desperately, and the tall blonde raised an eyebrow with a wry smile.

"So anyway, while we were…in the bedroom…some hair straighteners set fire to the curtains. Neither of us realised-"

"What? How?" Quinn asked.

"Well, I'm not gonna lie, Q…it was a pretty big house." She replied smugly, and Quinn rolled her eyes. "Anyway, so we didn't realise but a neighbour saw smoke and called the fire brigade. So I had to sneak out of the window and across the garden. And it was a _big_ garden. So I was just a little tied up. _And_ a little…_tied up._"

"Okay ew. Thank you. Enough." She took a deep breath, "But I still don't understand why you had to sneak out?"

"Because I was supposed to have been and left half an hour before! And _no_ way I was letting all the guys from work turn up while I'm there wearing nothing but my helmet and-"

"No! Stop that now. Okay. Enough. I get it." The girl behind the bar eyes Quinn with an amused expression, attempting to be subtle whilst listening to one half of the conversation.

"So yeah, sorry I couldn't answer your call!" The brunette finished brightly, and Quinn chuckled.

"It's okay. It was just, Rachel set me up on a date today and I went and it was awful and she was sort of racist. I was wondering if you wanted to come for a drink with me."

"Ugh, I totally would have." Santana huffed, "But now that I've narrowly escaped, I think that's enough risk for one day. I should probably continue my house calls."

"Why, what are you doing?" Quinn asked, out of interest.

"I'm just going round housing estates checking people's fire alarms and installing new ones." Santana shrugged, "So I should probably get on."

"Okay." Quinn nodded, "_Keep out of trouble_."

"I will!" The brunette replied, in a sickly sweet voice, "See you later!"

"Bye." Quinn chuckled, shaking her head incredulously, and sighed, "So still just me then."

The tall blonde shrugged.

"Is this sad?" Quinn asked, "Or do you get it all the time?"

"Uh…we get it sometimes. I _will_ admit, not often at two pm. Usually two _am_ is more like it." She smiled, rolling her eyes, "But that doesn't make it sad. Whether it's sad or not depends on the reason."

"I see."

"For example, if you're here because you just got a big promotion and your boss gave you the rest of the day off, so you thought 'Screw it, I'm gonna be wild!' Not sad. If you're here because you have no job and you have nothing else to do other than drink yourself into a coma…little sad."

"I'm glad you clarified. Well for the record, I _do_ have a job, and there probably _are_ other things I could be doing. I think I'm here because I've never done it before. Like, I've been to bars, but never by myself. And usually I don't really drink. So…I'm treating myself." She held her complex cocktail in the air with a nod to the tall blonde. "I'm kind of…trying new things."

"New things? Like what?"

"Like…well, firstly. I started dating." The girl's jaw dropped, at Quinn nodded self-consciously, "Yeah, I went on my first date. Had my first kiss. Which I then made a substantial effort to forget." The bar girl laughed loudly, "I did karaoke for the first time. Almost got stuck in a burning building for the first time. Spent the night cuddling in bed with a girl for the first time. Then I came out, and today I went on my first date with a girl. Which was a disaster, obviously, and here I am. First time drinking alone in a bar. First time in a bar at half past two in the afternoon. I'm really working through my checklist."

"Well, it sounds to me like you're having an awesome year." The girl behind the bar nodded, grabbing a dishcloth and wiping down the surfaces.

"Year? Month is more like it." Quinn snorted, and the blonde grinned.

"Well then I admire you even more. And also, not sad at all." The girl grinned, "So, I'm sorry if I'm over-stepping the mark here, but…what the _hell _happened to your friend?"

"Oh." Quinn laughed, "That was my friend Santana. The one sneaking around someone else's property."

"I…see?" The blonde began to nod, but tilted her head instead, and Quinn chuckled.

"Yeah. You know, the usual. Working on a house call, had sex, started a fire without noticing, snuck out of the house before her colleagues could find her indulging in the misuse of personal protective equipment, called me and attempted to give me way too many details on the story." She finished her list with a matter-of-fact shrug, whilst the girl behind the bar shook her head slowly, her eyes wide.

"Holy shit." She nodded, "So I'm assuming your best friend works for the fire service?" Quinn nodded, "You have to admit, that is pretty hardcore."

"Yup. That's Santana." She jerked her eyebrows knowingly, "It's not even the worst thing she's ever done whilst on the job."

"Dare I ask?" The tall blonde grinned excitedly, resting her forearms on the bar and leaning forward.

Quinn paused for thought, "Um…Either the time she drove a fire truck to the clinic so she could buy thrush medication, or one time she went to this bar during her shift and got so drunk she had to be carried out by some guy who was part-time."

"Fair enough, they _are_ both worse." The barmaid nodded, "How does she get away with so much?"

"Well, her excuse is that the engine she took was the only vehicle and it wasn't in use or something. And in her defence for the bar thing, she had just saved three kids from a burning house. It was like a celebration." Quinn shrugged.

"I bet its so cool, having a job where you save lives and stuff." The girl mused, staring into space.

"Yeah, she has some pretty cool stories. Most of the time I just forget about it." She shrugged again, "Like, it's just Santana. Just the promiscuous girl I've known since high school. The girl whose hair I held back while she hurled, the girl who dragged me along to New York. It seems so strange to me."

"You've obviously got a lot of memories. Sounds like a good friend."

Quinn nodded, a small smile playing around her lips, "She is."

"I'm Brittany."

"I'm Quinn." The blonde was beaming at her, and Quinn offered a nervous smile in return. "Thanks for standing and listening to my problems."

"That's what bartenders are for, isn't it? Best part of my job." Brittany chuckled.

"Well then, I'm sorry my problems are so boring." She grimaced self-consciously, but Brittany shook her head.

"They're not boring. I think it's pretty cool that you're trying all these new things and stuff. And a little insane that you hadn't done all of that stuff until like, a month ago." Quinn felt like if anyone else had said that, she'd be a little offended. But Brittany's megawatt smile was hard to be offended by.

"Yeah, that's what everyone told me." She nodded, "To be fair, actually doing that stuff hasn't been that great. All of the dates so far have been pretty awful, one way or another. Not to mention the fact that I haven't actually found any of them for myself. My other best friend has set up every single date. Is _that_ sad?"

"Not sad." Brittany replied, her head tilted thoughtfully, "A little silly, maybe. I mean, if you're going to spend the rest of your life with someone, shouldn't you be able to find them yourself? Isn't that how fate works?" She shrugged, and Quinn nodded slowly.

"Probably. But then I'll probably never get asked out again." She joked, and Brittany chuckled.

"So you said you had your first kiss? Wasn't _that_ good?" She asked, her eyebrows raised.

"No. Literally awful. I cannot imagine a worse first kiss." She said seriously. "I mean it. It was a guy I had absolutely no feelings for and it was just awkward and…ugh."

"That sucks. You're doing this whole 'trying new things' thing totally wrong." Brittany shook her head, her hands waving with exasperation.

"Well how would you do it then?" Quinn countered, biting the straw in her mouth.

"Like this." Brittany took the straw between her thumb and forefingers, pulling it from Quinn's mouth. She leaned in a little closer, and brushed her lips against Quinn's, whilst the smaller blonde sat motionless and stunned. She pulled away a moment later, and Quinn was barely sure it had even happened.

"You wanna go out with me?" The tall blonde whispered, and Quinn gulped.

"Okay."


	11. Chapter 11

**Hey people! I'm sorry it's taken me so long to update this, but I have to admit it'll be taking me longer these days. I've just started a new job so that's taking up a lot more of my time. I'll still be writing on days off, I'm not giving up on it, it'll just take me longer to write new chapters and update fics, sorry!**

**However, for now, here's the new chapter. Hope you all enjoy it, and please feel free to leave me a lovely review :D**

**Thanks for reading!**

* * *

**I'll walk down the mall, stand over by the wall. Where I can see it all, find out who ya call. Lead you to the supermarket checkout, some specials and rat food, get lost in the crowd. - _Blondie, One Way or Another_**

"So, her leg is like…_here_ and she's totally…you know. And then suddenly there's this bang and a cracking sound, and like, I _know_ that sound. It's the sound of a front door being kicked off its hinges. So all I can hear is the _thundering_ of feet, and I'm like, 'Holy shit. If I don't get out of here, I'm gonna lose my fucking job.' So you know, like, what else could I do? I just ran out of there, hid behind her kid's bike shed and got dressed, scaled a fence whilst trying not to be seen _and _with my hands tied together, and just ran to the next block and carried on doing house calls as if nothing had happened. It's a good job I hadn't parked outside of her house or I would have been _so_ fucked." Santana finished her speech, shaking her head with an expression of wonder. She turned to Quinn, and to her dismay, found the blonde staring absent-mindedly into space.

"Guess what? I got this new milk jug today." The blonde replied suddenly, "You buy milk in a bag, and put it in the jug and it pours really easily and is so much cheaper and it's better for the environment. Plus I never spill anymore. It's pretty awesome, actually, I'm glad I bought it."

She turned to nod at Santana, who stared stonily back at her, "You are so fucking boring, Q."

The blonde gazed at her thoughtfully for a moment, before nodding awkwardly, "I can see why you might think that, yeah. But it _is_ awesome."

"You need some thrills, kid." Santana snorted, shaking her head, "Serious thrills."

"Okay, maybe I'm happier than milk warrants. But get this, I can do better." Quinn pointed her finger at the girl, pressing mute on the TV and twisting her body so she was facing Santana, whose eyebrows raised with interest.

"Do tell, my little scarlet woman."

"So after my awful 'date' – if you can call it that – with Tina the belligerent bigot, I called you to see if you wanted to go for a drink?" Santana nodded, "Well, as you know you were…pre-occupied, so I just went alone." She shrugged, and the brunette's jaw dropped.

"No you did not!" She squinted suspiciously, "Like hell you went anyway. You'd be terrified in a shady bar on your own, never mind when it's full of creepy day-time alcoholics."

"Well, luckily I had a tall blonde to take care of me." Quinn shot back smugly, and Santana's eyes widened as her eyebrows shot upwards.

"Are you kidding me?"

"Nope." The blonde crossed her ankles on the coffee table before uncrossing them and crossing them once more. Santana chuckled at the girl's cocky behaviour, and she slapped her hand on Quinn's thigh, sitting forward eagerly.

"No way! You…you_ little_…snake in the grass!" Her nails dug into the blonde's leg, and Quinn giggled as Santana shook her head, her mouth hanging open incredulously, "So who was she? Tell me everything! Did you do it on the bar?!"

"Okay, _admittedly_ it's not as exciting as all that." Quinn grimaced shyly, but Santana shook her head.

"Who cares? It's more exciting than a milk jug! Tell me."

"Well, I was sat in the bar and we were just talking – she was one of those people that you sort of can't help talking to – and I was telling her about dating and trying new things and everything that's happened. And she told me that I'd been doing it wrong, because Rachel was choosing all of my dates instead of me finding them for myself-"

"Agreed." Santana nodded, rolling her eyes.

"So I asked how she would do it, if she were trying new things. And she was so smooth it was almost painful," Quinn giggled, "She leaned forward and just kissed me. And then asked if I wanted to go out with her."

"Just like that?" The brunette's smile had faded slightly, and she almost looked suspicious, "That was it? She just kissed you, just like that?"

"Yup." The blonde nodded, grinning proudly. "Just like that."

"Oh. Cool."

"You don't wanna know what I said?" Quinn prodded the brunette's shoulder, and Santana nodded.

"Yeah, what did you say?" She smiled brightly.

"I said yes. And we're going out tomorrow night!" The blonde clapped her hands excitedly, and Santana nodded once more.

"That's awesome. I'm very proud of you for finding your own date and…seizing the day and all that. Good job." She grinned, and Quinn held up her hand for a high five, which Santana accepted.

"Yeah, I'm pretty proud of myself." The blonde nodded, chuckling slightly, "She won't tell me where she's going to take me, but she said to wear comfortable clothes that I can move around in?" She grimaced nervously, but Santana shrugged.

"I'm sure it'll be fine. Moving around is always…good. That's a good sign. That she wants to…move around. On your date." She trailed off awkwardly, and Quinn frowned.

"Are you okay?" She narrowed her eyes, looking bemused, and Santana nodded, shrugging it off.

"Yeah, of course I am. So what was her name?" She raised her eyebrows and Quinn smiled again.

"She's called Brittany Pierce."

"No way."

"What?"

"No way." Santana stared at her, and Quinn frowned.

"What's wrong?"

"Tall? Blonde? Blue eyes? Dreamy expression?" The brunette rattled off, and Quinn nodded.

"Yes…Oh God, you've slept with her haven't you?!" She demanded, sighing heavily, "Well, that's great. Ugh. I should have known that dating girls would inevitably turn out this way!"

While Quinn was ranting, Santana leaned down and reached for the laptop, pushing it open and tapping away quickly. Once the page loaded, she spun it round to face Quinn, silencing the blonde suddenly, "Is this her?"

Quinn frowned, "What is that? I mean, yeah it's her. But what is that?"

"It's Fondue For Two, Brittany Pierce's youtube channel." Santana explained, pressing play on the video. Quinn watched as the blonde from the bar mouthed wordlessly on the screen while large, bright letters flashed across the screen. She also frowned as a huge cat made occasional appearances. "She's been voted s one of the top five youtube channels in the US, as well as there being a post about her and all these other youtubers on some ultra-popular blog. She's a guest speaker at a ton of conventions and stuff, she has merchandise and she wrote a few columns for this magazine once, and she was voted number 3 on the list of the top 50 influential people in modern media. Plus she is _smokin'_."

"Holy shit." Quinn stared at the screen in awe as Santana scrolled through the comments on the video, before switching to google and typing in the blonde's name.

"I know, right? I can't believe you're going on a date with Brittany Pierce. As in Fondue For Two, Brittany Pierce." She shook her head again, but Quinn frowned.

"Why do you know so much about her?" She narrowed her eyes at Santana, who shook her head.

"Because she's amazing! She's funny and smart and she asks _very_ impertinent questions of all these almost-celebrities. Sometimes real celebrities, too." She nodded excitedly, "And although she asks questions that _anybody_ in PR would say _never_ to answer, she's so sweet and charming that people can't help but open up to her. She caused a fan riot once because some boyband dude admitted his dirty secrets. It was like Watergate."

"This may not be the time, but do you have _any_ idea what Watergate was?" Quinn deadpanned.

"Whatever! There are more important things to worry about right now, like Brittany fucking Pierce wants to _move around_ with you!" Her excited expression suddenly turned into one of shocked awe, "Holy shit, Q. You're gonna bang Brittany Pierce! Oh my God, this is _so unfair_! Why didn't I come to the bar instead of finishing those _stupid_ house calls! God, I could be planning for a date with Brittany fucking Pierce! _Ugh._" Santana was gesticulating wildly, and she finished by slapping her palms against the sofa cushions exasperatedly.

"What do you mean you could be planning for a date?" Quinn countered, shifting back to glare, affronted, at Santana. "Is it _so_ hard to believe that she could still choose _me_ over you? Or is that too ridiculous to comprehend?"

"No! Of course not." The brunette scoffed, "I'm not saying she wouldn't still want _you_. I'm saying I would wrestle her away from you regardless, one way or another. Like, if we were being chased by a bear in the woods, it's not a given that the bear would want to chase _you_ over _me_, but either way I'd knee-cap you to get away."

"That is a terrible analogy. Not to mention an offensive one." Quinn replied seriously, "But it's good to know that whether I would win or not, you'd take me down to win regardless."

"Yes! Exactly." Santana nodded, and the blonde rolled her eyes with a sigh.

"Well, screw you. I'm going on a date with Brittany Pierce and you're not, so you don't even have chance to steal her away." She playfully stuck up two fingers at the brunette, who scowled back.

"Whatever, like I even _want _to date an internet celebrity." She scoffed.

"Sorry, San, but it's a little too late to act like you don't care. You missed the opportunity when you started gushing from your lady parts." Quinn replied sweetly, and Santana grimaced.

"Ew, Quinn. It's only okay for _me_ to talk like that. You're not nearly vulgar enough." The blonde rolled her eyes, but Santana added, "And that is a _compliment_! Savour it."

-oOo-

Quinn sat on a bench on the outskirts of a park as she waited for Brittany. The day before, she had felt so excited. After meeting Brittany and…that kiss, she was excited to go on a date with someone exciting and funny and spontaneous. Especially someone she had met herself, but after talking to Santana last night, her nerves were shot. Once Santana had gone home, she was ashamed to admit that she had stayed up until the early hours watching Brittany's videos, and now she felt torn.

Half of her was just as excited as ever, especially when she remembered her actual conversation with the blonde in the bar, and how sweet and funny she was in her videos. However, now she also felt…rather terrified. Brittany had thousands of followers online, and received so much praise and admiration in the comments. Not to mention the flirty attention she often got from the guests she interviewed. A sense of unease was coiling in the pit of her stomach, and she chewed at her bottom lip as she weighed up the pros and cons.

Before she could seriously consider running far, far away, her attention was caught by the grinning blonde as she bounced round the corner. She saw Quinn and waved excitedly, and Quinn chuckled to herself before waving back. As the blonde drew nearer, the nerves in her stomach turned to butterflies, and she grinned as Brittany approached.

"Hey, there! How are you?" She was carrying two smoothies, and held them out in front of her, "I wanted a smoothie so I got you one, too. I didn't know what you like so I bought strawberry, orange and banana, and blueberry, mango and pineapple. I think I've covered all bases, but if you don't like the sound of either of them then I can go back, it's just around the corner." She gestured over her shoulder with one of the smoothies, "Also, I haven't used either straw so you're safe from germs or anything. Although, now that I think about it properly, I kissed you yesterday so any germs I have today, I've probably already given you. So, apologies for that." She grimaced comically, and Quinn chuckled.

"Okay, don't worry about the straw because stuff like that doesn't bother me." She began with a bright smile, "Both of the smoothies sound awesome, although personally I would prefer the strawberry, orange and banana. I'm not the biggest fan of blueberries. However, if you had your heart set on that one then blueberries it is. Either way, you definitely don't need to go back. Also, how are you?"

Brittany nodded, passing the requested smoothie over to Quinn, "Here you go, enjoy your smoothie. I hope you like it. I'm happy to have the blueberry-mango-pineapple one, I like both so I really don't mind. I like that the straw doesn't bother you, even if it is a hypothetical situation, as I haven't touched either, anyway. As for how I am, I'm really good. It's been a nice day – I like the sunshine so that's put me in a good mood. I'm a little nervous, and slightly worried that we're going to spend this entire date talking in long speeches, but mostly I've just been excited to see you again." She finished with a self-conscious smile, and Quinn laughed.

"Okay. No more speeches."

"Good."

"Park?" Quinn pointed to the gates near-by, and Brittany giggled.

"Yes."

"Nice." She replied, nodding to her smoothie, "Okay, we can find a middle-ground between one-word answers and hundred-word speeches I'm sure."

"I'll try my best." Brittany nodded, "And yes, we're going into the park. This may sound a little odd, but can you skate?"

"Skate?" Quinn's eyes shot upwards, and she resisted the urge to grimace with worry, "Um…not exactly? I don't think."

"Have you ever tried?"

"What kind of skating are we talking about?" She raised an eyebrow, and Brittany smiled.

"Like, roller skating. You know, four wheels. There's this temporary skate rink here." She explained, "I wondered if you'd like to have a go? There's also some sort of bike display I think, so that could be cool."

Quinn nodded interestedly, "Yeah; that sounds awesome." She grinned with a shrug.

"Cool." Brittany smiled, "So, you're a locksmith, right?"

Quinn frowned slightly, but nodded, "Um, yeah I am. Mostly for stuff like safes and home security."

"Is it complicated? It sounds it, 'bespoke security systems' and all that." She chuckled.

"Um, not really." Quinn felt puzzled, but was unsure why, "It sounds complicated but, most things sound complicated when you don't know how to do them."

"I suppose that's true." Brittany nodded, "It sounds pretty cool, though. Maybe one day you can show me how to secure-ify my apartment."

"Definitely. So, what do you do? Or are you full-time at the bar?" Quinn felt a little guilty asking when she already knew that Brittany was a mega-famous youtube legend, but she didn't want to seem weird.

"No, I only work at the bar for a little spare cash. Mostly it's for the fun, if I'm honest." She nodded, chuckling, "But yeah, when I'm not at the bar I work in social media." Suddenly, the tall blonde looked guilty, "Actually, I have something to admit. Although I thought this would be an awesomely fun date, that's not the only reason we're here."

"What do you mean?" Quinn raised an eyebrow curiously, "Why else are we here?"

"This is why." Brittany took her hand, pulling her into jogging behind her. As they reached the brow of the hill Brittany was pulling her up, Quinn gasped. A huge skate park was set up beside a round skate-rink, and various BMX-ers were flying around it at high speed, jumping off ramps and performing tricks in the air. There was a crowd of spectators gathered round, and huge flood lights were positioned at the corners of the park, illuminating the scene. Cameras and phones were flashing every now and then, making the scene twinkle before her eyes.

"I don't understand." Quinn shook her head, confused, and Brittany smiled guiltily.

"Well, we are here to see the show, but I also need to film it. You can be on there, too, if you like?" She grinned cheekily, still holding Quinn's hand as they strolled down the hill to the scene.

"What are you filming it for?" The blonde asked Brittany, knowing full well why. She had seen a few videos on Brittany's channel that did not follow the usual format. Most of the videos were filmed on a set made to look like a bedroom, but occasionally Brittany would visit live events or go on trips, filming and narrating the whole thing.

"I do a stupid webcast blog thing. It's no big deal and barely anybody watches it. I just need to film a little of the show then I can add a commentary later." She shrugged, "If it bothers you then I don't have to?"

"No!" Quinn shook her head vehemently. "Its fine, I don't mind at all!"

"Awesome. Thanks for being so cool with this." Brittany grinned, and Quinn found herself beaming back at her.

"No problem."

She frowned as they reached the edge of the crowd, not looking forward to elbowing her way through the greasy-looking teenagers, most of which were sporting very tight, low slung jeans and t-shirts emblazoned with logos she had never seen before in her life. Half of them seemed to have at least five holes punched through their ears, as well as their faces, and Quinn's heart sank. Thankfully, she was saved from such horrors as Brittany tugged her around the edge of the crowd, towards a bouncer stood by the temporarily-constructed metal fencing.

"Hey, I'm Brittany Pierce, there should be two passes." She greeted him with a grin, and the man looked down at his list with a frown. He was wearing baggy jeans and skate shoes, along with a bright high-visibility vest and a collection of lanyards were hanging from his back pocket. Quinn looked him up and down, admiring his style, and immediately felt much safer near this man than the collection of illustrated teenagers.

The man nodded, ticking his list before pulling the lanyards out of his pocket. He rifled through the passes at the end, pulling out one with Brittany's name on and one saying GUEST in large letters. He passed them to the tall blonde and pulled the metal fence backwards, allowing them entry to what Quinn assumed was the V.I.P area. He closed the fence behind them and Brittany stopped, turning to face Quinn and placing the lanyard around her neck. The blonde shivered as Brittany's fingers brushed against her neck, and she smiled nervously before following after the girl once more. They were stood between two of the metal fences with a handful of other people, and everyone in their area seemed to be carrying a camera or Dictaphone, and they were all looking eager and on edge. Brittany was the only one who didn't seem to be eying up the other…journalists? Quinn wasn't entirely sure what they were.

A girl with bright pink dreadlocks was carrying a large camera, and Quinn recognised the large eX logo on the back of her t-shirt. She was standing beside a man wearing a matching t-shirt, who was filming the proceedings, whilst another man was making notes on a PDA. The crowd of terrifying teenagers were stood on the other side of the metal fence behind them, whilst bikers and skateboarders were whizzing past in front of them. Brittany took her hand again as they stepped up to the fence, and Quinn craned her neck to watch the riders flipping and jumping across the course, her mouth hanging open in wonder. The sky was beginning to darken around them, and Brittany pulled a small camcorder from her bag, flipping the screen open and turning it on as Quinn watched one skateboarder on the quarter pipe nearby.

"Quinn, say hi!"

Quinn turned to face Brittany with a smile, before realising that the girl was holding the camera to her face, and she giggled self-consciously, slapping a hand over the lens.

"Hey, that's cheating! You have to capture the atmosphere!" The tall blonde teased, pulling Quinn's hand away. "So here we are at the New York leg of the eX-Riders Circus Tour! This is my friend Quinn, who is watching the show with me tonight." Quinn waved awkwardly, grinning at the camera as a biker sped past behind her, "So, Quinn. Are you excited?"

"Yes, definitely." She replied, nodding and attempting not to look nervous and stupid, "It looks like there's some really talented people here, so I'm excited for the show to start."

"Awesome!" Brittany grinned, giving her a thumbs-up behind the camera before panning away to follow a skateboarder.

A few minutes later and the music that was blaring from a sound system faded away, and a man's voice boomed from the speakers, announcing the event. They cheered loudly as each of the riders was introduced and did a lap of the course. Brittany reached for her hand, giving it a squeeze, and Quinn beamed up at her, grateful to the girl for bringing her on such an unusual, but exciting, date. She turned back to the skate park with a smile as a team of people jogged past the crowd, tossing t-shirts and hats and other merchandise out to the crowd. Brittany reached up as the items flew past, catching hold of a t-shirt and a cap, emblazoned with the tour logo.

She passed them across to Quinn, still holding her camera up with the other, and grinned, "Take your pick."

The shorter blonde grinned, pulling the cap onto her head before passing the t-shirt back, "Here, gimme that." She took the camera from Brittany to allow the girl to wrestle the t-shirt over her head, before passing it back.

Brittany swung the camera round to Quinn again, shouting over the cheering crowd, "Look what we caught; merch for everyone! I got a t-shirt," She held the camera aloft, twisting it round and pulling at her t-shirt, "And Quinn got a hat, which she looks super cute in." Quinn chuckled, lifting the brim and winking at the camera before turning back to the park as the show began.

-oOo-

"That was totally awesome." Quinn nodded as they wandered away from the skate park, "Like…really awesome."

"I know, right?" Brittany nodded, "To be perfectly honest, it was actually better than I thought it was going to be. So that was lucky." She shrugged, grinning, and Quinn bumped her shoulder against the taller girl's arm, nudging her with her elbow.

"Should we get something to eat? Before we go skating?" she suggested, raising her eyebrows, and Brittany nodded.

"Yeah, of course. What have you got a hankering for?" Brittany teased, "We can walk and find somewhere nice to eat, or just stay in the park and find something?"

"Uh…honestly? The park works for me. There's food trucks in the west corner, isn't there? And I don't exactly feel dressed for a nice place." She grimaced awkwardly, and Brittany nodded.

"I'm so glad you said that! Come on." She took her hand and they wandered towards the food trucks, and away from the blaring music of the skate park and rink. "So you don't actually live right in the city, do you?" Brittany asked interestedly.

Quinn opened her mouth to reply, but closed it again with a frown before shaking her head, "Uh, no. I don't. Although I love the city, I find the hustle and bustle just…it gets a little too much for me eventually. What about you?"

"Well, I don't live in a quiet duplex in the suburbs or anything, but I know what you mean." She nodded. The feeling of unease was back, and Quinn narrowed her eyes, but she shook it off as the tall blonde continued, "I have a little apartment in the Village, it's nice but…nothing special." She shrugged, smiling sweetly.

"That's cool. Plus, Wonder Woman lived in the village." Quinn added, "You know, not that that's cool in any way." She chuckled self-consciously, but Brittany shook her head.

"_I_ think it's cool." She shrugged, and Quinn bowed her head, grinning, "So you have a dog, right?" Brittany asked politely, and Quinn raised a confused eyebrow.

"Um…yeah. I do." She frowned, "I'm sorry, but how do you know that?"

"I googled you." Brittany shrugged.

"Google knows I have a dog?" Quinn stopped walking, narrowing her eyes at Brittany, who turned to face her, staring down at the ground.

"Okay so maybe google doesn't know that part. Google knew you were a locksmith." She explained with a shrug, and Quinn dropped her hand.

"Google knows I'm a locksmith? How?" She demanded, her mouth hanging open in horrified shock.

"Your website, duh."

Her eyes grew wide as she stared at the tall blonde, who looked awkward. "What website?" She asked, her indignation gone for a moment.

"Here." Brittany pulled her phone out of her bag, "I think I still have the page open…there." She tapped at the screen before passing the phone to Quinn, who stared down at it with horror.

"What the hell is this? Who made this? What is going on?" She shook her head at Brittany, who shrugged.

"I don't know. I googled Quinn Fabray and it was one of the first pages that came up. That _is_ your company?" The girl frowned at her, and Quinn nodded.

"Well, yeah. It's my logo and the details of my company…but…I didn't make this site." She shook her head again, and Brittany's mouth twisted with confusion.

"Huh. Do you have…a business partner? Or something?" She suggested, taking the phone back from Quinn, who shook her head.

"No, I only have…Puck."

"Who's Puck?"

"He's this guy who works for me." Quinn shrugged, "I make the parts and build the locks, then her goes and builds the larger parts, you know, installing safes and stuff. But it doesn't make sense, why would he?"

"Maybe to bring in more revenue or something?" Brittany shrugged. Quinn was still frowning, glaring down at the ground, and she shook herself mentally, turning back to the blonde, "I'm sorry. I'm sure you're right. I'll call him tomorrow and get to the bottom of it. Sorry to go all weird."

"It's okay. I'm sorry I googled you." She offered guiltily, but Quinn shook her head.

"No it's fine, don't worry."

"Anyway, so-" Brittany turned to keep walking, but Quinn was reminded of something else she had said, and placed a hand on her arm to stop her.

"Wait. You said it wasn't google that told you I have a dog. How did you know that?" She frowned at the girl, who shifted uncomfortably under her gaze.

"Um, I just…you know, I know people." She shrugged.

"What do you mean, you know people?" Quinn laughed, but it sounded humourless even to her own ears.

"I…you know, I do computer stuff and internet stuff and…I have my sources." She shrugged again, transferring her weight from foot to foot as she chewed the inside of her cheek.

"Was it your sources that also told you where I live?" Quinn asked, aghast.

Brittany nodded shyly.

"Okay." Quinn gave a sharp nod. "So, I'm guessing this is some sort of weird hacker shit or something?"

"Something like that." Brittany admitted, "I'm sorry! I didn't mean to be weird or anything! I just, I never know what to talk about on dates. And I have this buddy that can hack into systems and stuff so I got him to…find out what you were like, that's all. Plus, you know, I kissed you in a bar when all I knew was that you'd been on a bunch of dates with some really weird people, your friend is extremely irresponsible, you have to be talked into drinking alcohol and you're pretty disappointed with your life. That's not much to go on."

"I'm not disappointed with my life!" Quinn defended, "Until I found out that you practically stalked me before our date, I was actually very happy with my life! I was having a really good time on a date that wasn't just a boring dinner, and everything was great. And _you_ kissed me! I didn't _ask_ you to! So whose fault was it that they were going on a date with someone they barely knew?"

"Oh, well I'm sorry I kissed you. Didn't look like it was that _awful_ from where I was standing!" Brittany retorted sarcastically, and Quinn rolled her eyes.

"That is _not_ what I said. The kiss was _great_, the _date_ was great. The part that worries me is that you know more about me than social security!" Quinn was waving her arms exasperatedly, and Brittany sighed heavily.

"Look, it's not like I hurt anyone! I'm sorry I found out where you live, and your job, and that you have a dog called Barney, but it's not like I was hurting anyone!" Brittany rubbed her fingertips against her temples, looking frustrated, but Quinn had stopped.

"What?" She asked, staring stonily at the taller blonde.

"What?" Brittany repeated, frowning with confusion.

"You said I have a dog called Barney. I could understand you knowing I had a dog, like I don't know, maybe you found records of me buying my apartment and found that I checked Yes in the pets box, or you found the records of me buying him or something. But _how the hell_ did you know his name?" Quinn demanded, staring evenly at Brittany.

"I work in social media! It's not that hard to find things out." She defended with a shrug.

"How?" Quinn demanded, the unease in her stomach morphing into genuine panic. What if Brittany _was_ a stalker? What if she was a crazed delinquent?

"Ugh. Fine. When I found your address, I realised I have a friend that lives on your street." She shrugged self-consciously. "I asked if he'd ever met you or anything and he said no, but he saw you walking your dog sometimes, that's all."

"Okay, this is too weird." Quinn took a step back, shaking her head, "I'm sorry, and I've had a really great time. But this is too much."

Brittany sighed heavily, looking disappointed, "Yeah, I get that." She frowned, looking down at the ground and ramming her hands into her pockets, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be weird. It was just like, once I started looking you just seemed to get better. Like, you have a nice apartment in a nice place, and you have your own really successful company and great friends. It was scary, and it kind of just snowballed. I am sorry."

"It's okay." Quinn shrugged, "I mean, when I told my friend Santana we were going on a date, she actually showed me your channel and I, you know, I watched some of your videos. They're really good, by the way. Sorry I didn't tell you. I figured you didn't want me to know and…I didn't wanna make you feel awkward."

"It's fine." Brittany nodded, "So…anyway. I've had an awesome time, I'm sorry everything got weird and I'm sorry that I am completely incapable of rational social interaction. Apologies."

"No, you're not. You're awesome, actually." Quinn shrugged, "I mean, aside from the…minor stalking. But, you _are_ awesome. You've been funny, and sweet and cute. And if you hadn't looked me up before our date, it would probably be ending very differently." Brittany nodded awkwardly, looking disappointed, "I'm sorry. If it helps at all, I'm glad you were my first girl kiss. And my first successful date with a girl. And you're the first girl to catch a hat for me."

"Well, at least I've contributed to the checklist." Brittany shrugged with a nervous chuckle.

"Best contribution so far." Quinn replied genuinely, nodding. "So…I guess I'll see you around."

Brittany smiled, adding, "But not in a stalker way, I promise."

"Thanks." Quinn smiled. "See you, Brittany."

"See you, Quinn. Good luck with the list."

"Good luck with the show. Your channel's really good, it had me giggling all night." She admitted quietly, stepping towards Brittany once more.

"I'm glad." The tall blonde nodded, "Do you mind if I still use you in tonight's video?"

"I'd be offended if you didn't." Quinn grinned, and Brittany nodded.

"Good, you were in the corner of one of the best shots, I wouldn't wanna cut that out." She teased, and Quinn shook her head, rolling her eyes.

"I'll see you around." She smiled kindly.

"Bye." Brittany nodded. Quinn stepped forward again, stretching up on her tiptoes to place her lips firmly against Brittany's. She felt the blonde smile slightly, and she lifted her hand to the nape of the girl's neck as she closed her eyes tight. The tall girl's arms wound around her and she opened her mouth slightly as Brittany pulled her closer.

They pulled away a few moments later, but Quinn stayed wrapped in the girl's embrace, grinning, "First time making out."

Brittany beamed back at her, nodding her head slowly before releasing her. Quinn took a few steps back, lifting the brim of her hat and nodding her head before turning around and wandering away from the blonde, an odd, divided feeling in her stomach. She pulled out her phone once she had left the park, to find a text from Santana.

**How's the date? You gonna bang? Send pictures! XXXXXXXXX**

Rolling her eyes, she tapped out a quick reply.

**Definitely not. Date just finished. Was good but weird, she looked me up beforehand and knew everything about me xxxxx**

**No wonder you didn't get a second date. Heh heh xxxx**

**Thanks, San. By the way, make sure you watch her next FF2 vid xxxx**

With that, she tucked her phone back into her pocket with a content sigh, before jogging down the steps to the subway.


	12. Chapter 12

**Pussycat, pussycat, I love you. Yes, I do! - _Tom Jones, Pussycat_**

**God, I can barely watch this video. You look so uncomfortable. S xxxxx**

**Oh, it's like Chernobyl but worse. Have you seen your face at 1:03? D: S xxxx**

**Don't think I've ever seen you look so shy. Why weren't you being sarcastic? Had she already tickled your pickle? Xxxxx**

**You already have thousands of likes, it was only uploaded three hours ago! Xxxx**

**God, are you internet famous now? Are you going be asked for autographs every time you leave the house? Xxxxxx**

**Oh wait, I forgot you never leave the house. Never mind…awkward…xxxxxx**

Quinn read the text from Santana and chuckled as Brittany's newest video played in the background. She was actually rather surprised that the blonde had uploaded it so quickly; barely more than twenty-four hours had passed since she kissed her goodbye, but Santana's reactions had made her glad. It was well past one am, and guilt was attempting to gnaw away at her. She should have been in bed a long time ago, especially as her alarm clock was set to go off in seven hours. Ugh. Maybe she'd push it back. Just a little.

Although she did have a lot of work to do. She sighed heavily before tapping out a reply and dropping her phone onto the sofa beside her. And there was something to think about; she still hadn't got to the bottom of that website. She had mentioned it to Rachel yesterday, who had assured her that it was probably Puck. It seemed likely, as nobody else had that level of understanding or knowledge about the business. But why would he set up a website without telling her? She had attempted to call him the previous day despite it being his day off, but to no avail. Her phone buzzed beside her, and she picked it up quickly, her eyes scanning the screen.

**God, she is so hot. It's a shame she's a crazy-ass stalker. Huh, who knew? :) xxxxx**

**Not me. Definitely not me. She was so nice! The news always tells me that stalkers will be wearing trench-coats and fedoras and stand in dark alleyways xxxxxx**

**What, you didn't see it coming from the girl who works in a dingy basement bar and pumped you full of alcohol in the middle of the afternoon? How bizarre xxxxx**

**Screw you xxxx**

**Don't worry, you weren't to know. There's secretly something wrong with everybody xxxxx**

_**Every**_**body? :S xxxxxx**

**Even me, young grasshopper xxxxx**

**Oh my God. I'm taking a screenshot of the moment you admitted to not being perfect xxxxx**

**FORGERY xxxxx**

Quinn chuckled aloud at the girl's rapid response, and Barney lifted his head off the sofa, turning to stare stonily at her. She turned to look at him, and they sat silently staring at each other for a few seconds before he lost interest and dropped his head back onto the patchwork throw. Her laughter had also caught Cobweb's attention, who had leapt up to Quinn's side and was now pressing her head against the girl's leg. The blonde rolled her eyes good-naturedly before scratching at the cat's ears and tapping out another reply with her other hand.

**So what are you doing anyway? Xxxxx**

She yawned widely, blinking her eyes a few times afterwards before shutting the lid of her laptop and moving it over to the coffee table. She pulled her legs up onto the sofa and dragged Cobweb across onto her lap, and the feline curled up tight, snuggling into the warm space where the laptop had been. Her phone buzzed beside her and she raised an eyebrow as she read the reply.

**Thinking about Becky, to be honest. Not entirely sure what I've got myself in for this time xxxxx**

**That doesn't sound like you. Thought you were savvy xxxx**

**I'm not a pirate xxxxx**

Quinn giggled, sliding further down the couch to rest her head comfortably as she tapped out a cheeky reply.

**More like a wench xxxxxx**

**Id be offended if that wasn't accurate :/ xxxx**

**So what's wrong? Xxxx**

**Not sure. She's very...committed isn't the word. Dedicated? Clingy? Hmm…she's just very…keen xxxxx**

She paused for a moment, looking thoughtfully around the apartment and biting her lip before taking a deep breath and typing out a reply. She hesitated for a split second once more, but pressed send decisively.

**You're so eloquent. Why do you care? Just break up with her, there'll be someone else xxxxx**

**Well dating's sharpened your edges, hasn't it? Xxxx**

**But its you. What's the point in waiting if you're not enjoying yourself? You'll find another Becky within a week xxxxx**

**Was that a compliment? :O xxxx**

Quinn rolled her eyes before sniggering a little.

**No xxxxx**

**Anyway, why are you up so late, Virgin Mary? Haven't you turned into a pumpkin? Xxxxx**

**Sat on the couch with Barney and Cobweb. About to go to bed xxxxx**

**Get yourself up the rickety iron hill, Cinderella xxxx**

She took a deep breath before shifting Cobweb off her lap and clambering to her feet.

**Roger that. I'm going. Text again in a minute xxxxx**

She tidied away a few cups and candy wrappers from the coffee table before preparing the animals for bed and making a drink before making her way up to bed. She changed quickly and flicked the lamp on before calling out her goodnights and switching the main light off. Her phone buzzed again as she crawled into bed, yawning loudly.

**Jesus, where are you going to bed, The Peninsula? Xxxxx**

**I wish. I am in bed now, though. Need sleep soon xxxx**

**Yeah I've been falling asleep for about half an hour :P xxxxx**

**Go to bed then! Hypocrite! Xxxxxx**

She felt her eyelids drooping, and shuffled down the bed until she was almost laid fully stretched out.

**I am in bed! Compulsive judgemental! Xxxxx**

**We should go to sleep then. It's very late and we both have work tomorrow :/ xxxxx**

**I agree. Nighty night, sweet cheeks xxxx**

Quinn frowned, but another text buzzed through before she could reply.

**That was meant to say sweet dreams xxxxx**

She raised an eyebrow and chuckled, before tapping out her response.

**Okay. Sweet dreams, ass cheeks xxxxx**

She placed her phone on the nightstand with a yawn and rolled over, snuggling under the covers and finally allowing her eyes to close for good.

-oOo-

As soon as she woke up, she regretted staying up so late to text with Santana. She was sat on the couch shovelling sausages into her mouth when her phone buzzed with a text from the girl.

**Kill me. Please. I look like Courtney Love xxxx**

Quinn laughed out loud, only narrowly avoiding suffocating on her mouthful before replying quickly and placing her empty plate beside her on the sofa. Barney immediately jumped up beside her to lick the ketchup off the plate, and though she rolled her eyes, she pushed herself off the sofa and left him to it. She took her laptop with her as she made her way over to her work desk, lifting the lid and logging in before scrolling through her emails and order list, re-working the list until it was fully prioritized. Next she reached for her phone, chewing at her lip as she attempted to put off the inevitable.

Scrolling to the number, she took a deep breath before pressing the call button and lifting the phone to her ear.

"Noah Puckerman." The boy answered, and she attempted to recall his features. She had only actually met him once, despite them working in sync so often. Rather than a formal interview, she had organised to meet Puck in a coffee shop nearby, where they had talked about his previous experience, why he thought he would be apt for the role and whether the set-up of the job would work for him. They both agreed that it could work, Quinn hired him on the spot (partly to avoid having to awkwardly interview anyone else) and she had never seen him again. Their phone conversations were few and far between, and it worked for them both.

"Hi, Puck. It's Quinn." She answered, attempting to stop her voice from shaking.

"Oh! Quinn. Um, hey?" He sounded confused, and there was an awkward pause before he added, "Is there a problem?" He sounded a little panicked, and she hurried to reassure him.

"Oh God, no. No problem at all, everything's great. Um, it's just that, I had a weird conversation the other day."

"Okay?"

"Yeah, I was uh, on a date with this girl and she said she'd found my website. I wondered if you knew anything about it?" As she was speaking, she started to realise how bizarre this conversation must sound to Puck, "I'm sorry, I know this is crazy. We never talk, especially on the phone, so I'm sorry if I'm interrupting or anything."

"It's fine, I'm just at the Portman house fitting these safes." Puck shrugged.

Quinn's demeanour changed, "Oh okay, is everything going well? I was a little worried about the main one, will you let me know if there's any problems?"

"I've already installed it, works like a dream." He replied smugly.

"Wow, how early did you start this morning?" She asked disbelievingly, grimaces slightly with wonder.

"They're away on vacation but said I could come as early as I wanted; the maid was already awake anyway. I wanted to get done early because I'm going to a suit fitting this afternoon. Is that alright?" He sounded a little unsure, and Quinn resisted the urge to snort.

"Absolutely, don't worry about it. Puck, just because I'm calling you for the first time in a million years doesn't mean you have to be on your guard. I was just wondering if you knew anything about this website? I was on a date and this girl mentioned it and as you can imagine, I was pretty confused considering I had absolutely no idea that this website even existed." She shut down the laptop in front of her and cleared away a space as she spoke.

"Yeah, actually I did set up the website. I'm sorry, I should have asked you about it but I didn't want to bother you." He sounded guilty, and Quinn frowned, "A lot of customers, when I leave, ask if we have a business card or any way they can refer us to their friends, or they want to give feedback. So I thought if I set up a website they could go online and leave a review, or they can recommend us and give the link to other people and stuff. You know, a way of getting customers."

"Getting customers?" Quinn giggled, "Because we don't work hard enough already?"

"Oh God, yeah, I'm so sorry. I really should have asked, I'm really sorry." He sounded panicked once more, and Quinn's mouth twisted nervously, "I should have thought. I just thought, you know, more customers means more money and that's always a good thing."

"Don't apologize! Seriously, Puck, you're not in trouble. Calm down!" She gave a little sigh, "But, yeah your idea makes sense. I appreciate that you set up the website so people can refer us and stuff, that's a good idea. But…I'm sorry but _did_ you only do it for the extra money?"

"No. Not exactly." He replied quietly, and Quinn chewed at her lip once more, resting her elbows on the desk in front of her with a frown.

"So what's your suit fitting for?" She asked suddenly. There was a short pause before he answered, sounding a little confused,

"Um, I'm getting married. Saturday."

"Oh, congratulations! That's awesome." She replied genuinely, "Are you going on honeymoon?"

"Um, no. Not yet. One day, but we're saving up." Puck admitted awkwardly, and Quinn nodded slowly. The penny had dropped.

"I see. Okay. Well whenever you book your honeymoon for, just let me know beforehand and I'll make sure you get the time off." She shrugged, but the boy scoffed.

"No, you don't have to do that! I'll find someone to cover for me."

"Don't be silly. I could probably do with a couple of weeks off work anyway. Whenever it is, just let me know. So, that's all cool then. You let me know, the website is great, you'll get a pay-rise effective immediately and I'll talk to you…probably in another six months or so. I'll talk to you later, keep up the good work!" She hung up before the stunned boy could reply, abandoning her phone on the desk before going in to her accounts and starting to arrange Puck's pay increase.

She figured why not? It would be murder trying to find anybody else who would agree to be as unsociable as she was at work, and it was a little sad to imagine getting married and having to wait and save before you could go on honeymoon. At least this way he could go a lot sooner. And Quinn would get a vacation.

She worked solidly for the next few hours, before the groaning of her stomach forced her into switching off the light and getting to her feet. She quickly made herself some lunch, and perched on the dining room table to ring Rachel as she munched through her sandwich.

"Hey, Quinn! How's things? How did your date go?" The girl immediately began asking questions, and Quinn chuckled before replying.

"Things are pretty good. I'm tired but good."

"How come?"

"Ugh, I just didn't get much sleep, it doesn't matter. And the date was…okay." She nodded slowly, "Uh…yeah. It was really good at first, and she was sweet and we were having so much fun – to be fair, you can watch the good part on youtube-"

"What?" Rachel interrupted, sounding confused.

"Oh, sorry. Um, Santana told me about how Brittany from the bar is actually this super famous youtuber who everybody loves - I'll send you the link. Anyway,it was going really well but she kept saying things like 'So you have a dog?' and I was like, 'Pretty sure I didn't tell her I have a dog' and it was really weird. Anyway, turned out she'd been stalking me before the date so I just came home. So…it was okay. Not the worst date I've ever been on!" She finished brightly, and Rachel was silent for a moment before she began giggling.

"Oh my God. Only you!" The brunette broke out laughing again and Quinn waited patiently until she continued, "Im sorry but…I just don't know how you do it! How you end up on all these terrible dates!"

"Neither do I! I blame you, you started this_ ridiculous _charade!" She rolled her eyes, sighing quietly, "So how's your love life? How's things with _Bro-o-dy_?" As she sing-songed his name, Rachel giggled childishly.

"They're great! He stayed over last night, and I stayed over the night before." She sighed wistfully, "He's perfect. And when we're not together and I don't hear from him for a few hours, he always calls me and says 'Hey, beautiful.'" She giggled again and Quinn smiled tightly.

"That's great. I'm really happy for you, Rach." She supressed a sigh, "That's awesome."

"Thanks. So I was supposed to be meeting him this afternoon but he had to cancel, do you wanna hang out?" The brunette asked brightly, but Quinn tutted.

"Awh, I can't. I'm working all day today, I'm really sorry." She finished her sandwich and jumped off the table, crossing to the kitchen to dispose of the empty plate.

"Never mind, I'm sure I'll see you soon."

"Yeah, definitely. Anyway, I have to go walk Barney before I get back to it; he's running around the living room so I think he's getting desperate. I'll talk to you later!"

"Call you soon, love you, bye, bye, byeeeee." Rachel hung up and Quinn chuckled, rolling her eyes before shoving her feet into her skate shoes and grabbing Barney's lead and collar.

"Come on, Barndoor. Walkie time!" Barney trotted over immediately and she knelt down to clasp the collar around his neck. As she did so, Cobweb brushed up against her leg, finding her way around Quinn's feet as she stood up. She dropped the door keys into her pockets as both animals trotted through the open door, before following after them and shutting the door behind her.

As they reached the street, a man walking a Doberman passed by. The huge dog began barking at Barney, who attempted a bark but shied away. The man pulled his dog back, shouting "Stan! Settle down! Hey!"

The dog obediently retreated, and Barney regained his composure, glancing around timidly. Quinn bent down to scratch behind his ears and the dog whimpered slightly. She glanced around for Cobweb, but the cat was nowhere to be seen. Frowning, she spun around on the spot, peering back into the apartment building, but to no avail. Her heart began pounded and she bit her lip nervously as she scanned the area for the grey cat. Just as she began to panic, she heard a mewing sound from above and frowned. Shielding her eyes from the sunshine, she tilted her head back to search the branches above her. After craning her head from side to side, she finally spotted the grey cat, perched high up in the tree.

"Fuck." She sighed heavily, her eyes raking down the tree as Barney cocked his leg against the trunk. Grimacing, she attempted to work out how she could get up into the branches to retrieve the cat, "Cobweb! Cobweb, come here! Come on Cobweb. Here!" She made the clicking noise and patted her leg, but the cat was sitting tight. She sighed heavily with a thoughtful frown. "Okay fine, but just…stay there."

She jogged back into the apartment, dragging Barney behind her as she sprinted up the stairs and unlocked the apartment. She unclipped his lead and threw it onto the couch, shutting the door behind the dog before running back down to the tree outside. Thankfully, Cobweb was still sat high up amongst the leaves. After unsuccessfully attempting to beckon the cat once again, she finally gave in and pulled out her phone, tapping in the familiar number.

"Hello?" Santana answered through a yawn, "What's up?"

"Hey, it's only me. What are you up to?" She asked tightly.

"Just at work. I'm sat in the office doing paperwork, why?" She asked, frowning.

Quinn sighed, "Is there any way you can get to my apartment? I know it's silly but Cobweb's ran up the tree outside. Usually she's alright outside but there was a Doberman barking and it…spooked her."

"Um…" Santana sighed, "Yeah, sure. I can't be long though because I have an appointment to do a talk at a school, but I'd be setting off in like twenty minutes. Suppose I can set off now and come on my way there. I'll see you soon."

"Thank you so much! Thank you San, you're the best!" She clutched at her chest with relief as she hung up, turning back to the cat in the tree, "Don't worry, Cobweb. Sanny's coming to get you."

Quinn waited another few minutes by the tree until Santana pulled up in an FDNY car, parking it by the curb and striding over quickly. She was wearing her FDNY t-shirt with steel toe-capped boots and fireproof trousers, the braces hanging down by her hips as she was pulling on a pair of thick gloves.

"Hey, what's up?" She greeted, rubbing at her tired eyes with the backs of her hands, "She still up there?"

"Yeah." Quinn sighed, chewing the inside of her cheek, "I've been calling her down but she just won't."

Santana surveyed the whole tree before nodding, "Yeah, it's okay. I'll get her. Uh…I could only bring the car so I don't have any ladders. I don't suppose you do?" She raised her eyebrows at Quinn, who shook her head.

"You're useless. Okay, gimme a boost up!" She placed her palms on the large trunk, waiting for the blonde to step forward, but Quinn merely raised an eyebrow.

"You're kidding." Santana turned back, frowning slightly.

"What? Boost me up, I'm not tall enough!" She shrugged, but Quinn scoffed.

"No way can I boost you up there. I can't even do pull-ups. Aren't you the fireman here, can't you pull yourself up to the first branches?" The blonde frowned, and Santana turned to face her, her expression deadpan.

She looked back to the tree and back to Quinn, "Wow, thanks Quinn! I never thought of that. I'll just use my elastic arms to pull myself up to those seven foot high branches. Why didn't I think of that? Hey, maybe I'll just jump straight up to Cobweb, grab her, and jump back down. You are so smart."

Quinn chuckled as Santana spoke, raising her eyebrows when the girl finally finished, "So someone's cranky from lack of sleep."

"I am. Sorry. Anyway, boost me." Santana jabbed a finger at Quinn's chest, then at the tree, and the blonde finally relented.

"Okay fine. I'll _try._ I make no promises; I'm not Lance Armstrong." She held up her hands defensively before stepping forward, but Santana frowned.

"You're not a doped-up cyclist?"

"Cyclist?" Quinn's eyes narrowed, "I thought he was that strong guy?"

Santana raised her eyebrows, "Stretch Armstrong?" she corrected.

"I'm not Stretch Armstrong!" The blonde repeated, "Anyway, come on."

Quinn stepped forward, squatting down and holding out her clasped hands for Santana's foot. The brunette pulled her braces up onto her shoulders before resting her hands against the trunk and bracing herself.

"Okay, try to stay rigid and steady otherwise I can't balance." She instructed the blonde, who rolled her eyes.

"Yeah, sure. Will do. Rigid and steady." She glanced up at the brunette before nodding.

Santana wiped the bottom of her boot against her trouser leg before placing it in Quinn's hands, taking deep breaths as she prepared herself. "Okay, I'll jump up, all you have to do is push. Push me up and I'll try to grab the nearest branch." Quinn nodded again and Santana bounced on the ball of her foot a few times before kicking off from the ground.

The blonde attempted to do as she had been told, launching Santana upwards, but the girl weighed more than she had expected – it was probably the muscle mass, she reasoned. She lifted her hands up, but almost immediately her arms gave way. Santana gained almost a foot of height, and scrabbled for the closest branch. Her hands brushed against it and she attempted to grab on, but Quinn couldn't hold her any longer. She overbalanced as her arms gave out, tipping sideways.

Santana attempted to dig her fingers into the bark as Quinn let go, and her legs flailed back and forth as she tried to get a hold on the branch. She clawed at the tree but couldn't get a hold without the blonde's support. One of her kicking feet made contact with something hard, and Quinn shouted loudly as the back of Santana's boot made contact with her forehead, sending her sprawling across the sidewalk. The impact was the final straw for Santana, who could not grip any longer and soon crumpled on the ground beside Quinn.

"Oh my God." She groaned, rubbing at her elbow and hip where she had landed, "Why did you let go?" She demanded and turned to Quinn.

The blonde was pushing herself into a sitting position, rubbing at the large lump on her head. She scowled at Santana, "Boot to the head."

"That was hilarious." A dry voice interrupted them, and both girls whirled round to see where the voice had come from.

A fairly small, blonde girl was staring at them with a cocky smirk, her arms folded across her chest. Santana straightened her braces and pushed herself to her feet, holding out a hand to pull Quinn into a standing position.

"Thanks for your insight." She nodded at the girl before turning back to the tree, "Anyway, what are we going to do?"

"What are you trying to do?" The girl asked confidently, and Quinn glanced over to her, looking unsure, whilst Santana firmly ignored her.

"Uh, we're trying to get my cat out of the tree." The blonde told the girl.

"Do you need help?" The girl raised an eyebrow.

"No. Thanks." Santana replied, still looking up at Cobweb. "Come on, we'll have to just try again." She shrugged and turned to Quinn, who stared back at her, eyebrows raised.

"Uh, actually I think I'll stick. I already have one egg on my head, I don't need to look like Hellboy." She shot back, and the small blonde rolled her eyes.

"Ugh, I'm a member of the New York Jets Flight Crew Cheerleaders. I think I can bump you up a few feet." She rolled her eyes before stepping forward, "Come on."

Santana glared at the girl before glancing to Quinn, who gazed back at her with pleading eyes. The brunette sighed, pulling her gloves on a little tighter before stepping forward. She placed her foot in the girl's hands and launched herself up once again. This time, the blonde girl pushed her up effortlessly, and soon Santana's arms were wrapped around the nearest branch. Santana glanced down to check the area was clear before swinging one leg up and over the branch and shifting so she was sat straddling it. She sighed heavily, nodding and gazing up at the branches to plan a route to the cat.

"Thank you." Quinn nodded at the blonde girl politely.

"It's fine. I like to help people." She smirked back, and Quinn nodded slowly, looking back to where Santana was sat. "Why is she dressed like that?" The girl asked, sounding unimpressed.

"I'm a stripper." Santana replied, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

"I thought she would be." The girl nodded knowingly.

"_Hey!_"

"She's in the fire service." Quinn quickly smoothed over the situation, pointing to the car.

"Oh, I see." The girl nodded, "I'm Kitty, by the way."

"Hi. Quinn." The blonde pointed to herself. "That's Santana."

"Pleasure." Santana tilted her head, smiling sweetly, "Okay, I'm going up."

Santana pushed herself up, using other branches for balance until she was stood on the branch and could begin climbing steadily.

"So why are_ you_ dressed like that?" Kitty asked Quinn, looking her up and down. Quinn frowned and looked down at her battered skate shoes, baggy jeans and faded t-shirt with a large graphic print, and back to Kitty.

"They're my clothes?"

"Oh." The girl seemed shocked, "Okay…"

"What's that supposed to mean?" Santana called out from above, glaring down at Kitty.

"Nothing." She shrugged, turning back to Quinn, "I just thought…nothing."

"Go on." Quinn frowned.

Kitty shrugged, crossing her arms once more, "No-one will want to date you if you dress like that."

"_Excuse m-"_ Santana began, but she was cut off as there was a loud snapping sound, and she was forced to move quickly to avoid tumbling back to the ground once more.

"I'm sorry, it's just a fact!" Kitty called up into the tree.

"How do you know I'm not already dating somebody?" Quinn asked sullenly. Kitty raised one eyebrow.

"And why do you even care?" Santana shouted, "Do _you_ wanna date her?"

Kitty frowned up into the tree again, "I'd date her if she dressed better."

There was a huffing noise as Santana pulled herself across to another branch, "Well it's a package deal! You date her in those clothes or you don't date her!"

"Excuse me!" Quinn called, "Do I get a say in this?"

"No." Santana shouted down playfully, "Okay, anyway, I can almost reach her." Quinn and Kitty stood side-by-side as they peered up into the leaves to where Santana was reaching for the cat, "Come here, Cobweb. Come on, don't worry."

The cat took a step towards Santana, who made the clicking noise to beckon her, but suddenly the grey feline turned and darted off further into the tree.

"Come on, Cobweb! I do not have time for your shit today!" Santana shouted out, grabbing for another branch and pulling herself up again.

Kitty lost interest and turned back to Quinn, "So _are_ you dating someone?" she asked knowingly.

Quinn shifted uncomfortably, before quietly admitting, "No."

"Huh." Kitty nodded, turning back to stare up at the branches, her expression triumphant. Quinn resisted the urge to growl.

"Okay I got her!" Santana shouted, "I'm coming back! As soon as I'm low enough I'll drop her, be ready to catch her, okay?"

"Okay!" Quinn called back, watching Santana struggle to descend and preparing herself to catch Cobweb. The brunette switched between sitting and standing on branches, shifting Cobweb from arm to arm as she made her way down slowly. She finally reached one of the lowest branches, and leaned down to toss Cobweb down to Quinn, who caught her easily and bundled her up against her chest. The brunette climbed down the last few branches before jumping down, landing elegantly beside Kitty and brushing herself down.

"Okay, you got your cat. I gotta go." Santana nodded, leaning forward to press a kiss to the top of Cobweb's head and scratching behind her ears, "See you later, sweetie. Stay out of trouble."

"Same to you." Quinn nodded as Santana straightened up in front of her.

"Where are you going?" Kitty asked forwardly. Santana turned round to face her.

"Oh. _You're_ still here." She looked her up and down, "I'm going to St Oswald's Primary School to talk about fire safety."

"Oh, awesome. Can I get a ride? I'm going that way, I could just walk from there." Kitty smiled sweetly, and Santana glanced to Quinn, her expression bewildered as Kitty continued, "You know…for helping with your cat."

Santana's eyebrow lifted slowly, but she nodded nonetheless, "Okay. Get in."

-oOo-

Quinn was laid on the sofa watching a bad movie about two women who appeared to be fighting over the same man who was also a criminal. She wasn't really making sense of it, but she figured that was probably due to her not really watching it. It was only just past ten, but she was already falling asleep, and she made a mental decision to have an early night. She was just about to check how long was left of the film, when her phone buzzed on the coffee table. Stretching an arm around Barney, she retrieved the phone and pressed answer.

"Sup, Doris Gay? I got you a date." Santana informed her as soon as she had put the phone to her ear.

"What?" Quinn spluttered, "With who?" She asked, though she already had a sinking feeling in her stomach and she knew what was coming.

"That Kitty girl."

"What? Why?" She rolled her eyes, laying back on the couch with a sigh.

"Well, I figured if Rachel can set you up with lots of unsuitable strangers, so can I." Santana sounded breezy, and Quinn grimaced cluelessly.

"Are you kidding? Like, seriously?"

"_Seriously_, am I _kidding_?" Santana quirked an eyebrow, "Anyway, she wasn't actually that bad once I got talking to her. She kind of made me laugh."

"I don't think I've ever _actually _wanted anything less. In my life." Quinn replied firmly, "So…no. I won't be going on a date with her."

"Yes you will." Santana argued, "You have never been on a date with anyone I've set you up with! You've been on tons of dates with Rachel's people, and they've included racists and, and…boys with really big lips."

"But they were all blind dates." Quinn pointed out, "I didn't go on any dates with people I'd already met and decisively hated."

"Please just do it. Give it a try! You never know, I might be awesome at setting people up." Santana pleaded, "And she actually _did _get nicer. Plus she's a cheerleader so…she's bendy."

The blonde frowned, "Unlike you, for me being 'bendy' isn't a reason to date someone."

"Well it should be. Think about it, can she _really_ be worse than a racist, a stalker or a needy rock-climber?" Santana asked knowingly, and Quinn's lip curled.

"Probably not."

"Well then! I'll tell her you're free on Friday?"

Quinn sighed heavily, groaning slightly, "Ugh. Fine."


	13. Chapter 13

**I know I don't know you, but I'd like to skip the small talk and romance. That's all I have to say so, baby, can we dance? – **_**The Vamps, Can We Dance**_

"So what are you wearing for this date?" Rachel asked, frowning at a rail as they ambled through the clothes store.

Quinn's lip curled cluelessly, and the blonde shrugged as she stared down at her pretzel, "I don't know." She confessed, spraying crumbs over Rachel. "I don't even want to go, so forgive me if I'm less than enthusiastic."

The brunette grimaced as she brushed pieces of pretzel out of her hair, "Well you should still make an effort." Suddenly, she became animated, "Ooh! Why don't you buy something new?"

"Uh, I dunno." Quinn frowned, shaking her head uneasily.

"Oh, come on!" Rachel urged, spinning round to stare down the blonde, "When was the last time you bought new clothes?"

The blonde pointed the pretzel at her small friend triumphantly, "Ha! Nice try! I ordered new jeans last week, and two new shirts."

"From the women's section?" Rachel raised an eyebrow, and Quinn sighed.

"Dammit."

The brunette grinned, grabbing Quinn by the wrist and tugging her along, "So let's find you something to wear!"

She plucked a blue dress from a rail and held it up, but the blonde scowled, shaking her head slowly. Rachel rolled her eyes before moving to another rack and flicking through the various garments. She lifted a green sparkly top, and Quinn grimaced comically. The tiny brunette sighed impatiently, sliding her hand down Quinn's arm to clasp her hand and drag her across to a set of shelves.

"Ooh, this is nice?"

The blonde's nosed scrunched and she shook her head.

Rachel threw the sweater back onto the shelf with a sigh, "Stop being stubborn! I know what you're doing."

"I'm not doing anything!" Quinn shrugged defensively, "I just don't like these clothes."

The brunette sighed, "Well what clothes _do _you like?"

"My clothes?" She groaned.

"But, Quinn, you don't have _any_ acceptable date clothes!" Rachel pointed out exasperatedly.

The blonde shrugged, "I've managed so far."

Rachel chuckled, "And where has that gotten you?" She raised an eyebrow good-naturedly, "All I'm saying is that you don't have the best track record."

Quinn frowned, "I'm pretty sure that's more your fault than mine."

"Why?"

"For setting me up on _terrible_ dates." The blonde countered as they continued wandering the shop floor.

Rachel snorted, "Oh, and you and Santana are doing _such_ a great job? A stalker and a bitchy cheerleader?"

"Sometimes bitchy cheerleaders aren't all they're cracked up to be." Quinn shrugged. Rachel turned away so the blonde couldn't see her sceptical eye-roll as her thoughts turned to one particular ex-bitchy cheerleader.

She sighed, "So who _has_ Santana set you up with anyway?"

"This girl called Kitty." Quinn replied sullenly as she checked the tag on a striped hoodie, "She helped us rescue Cobweb from the tree."

"Hmm. Well, there you go. Maybe the date won't be so bad, if she scaled a tree to rescue your cat?" Rachel shrugged, but Quinn shook her head.

"She didn't scale the tree she just gave Santana a boost. After Santana gave me a _boot_." She pointed to the large bruise on her forehead, and Rachel giggled.

"You poor thing. Is it still tender?" She reached up to brush Quinn's hair away from the dark welt.

The blonde nodded, wincing slightly, "Be careful."

"Oh, sorry." Rachel grimaced guiltily, before going up onto her tiptoes and placing a gentle kiss on the dark skin.

Quinn's cheeks flushed a little as Rachel turned back to a clothes rail, and she quickly turned and busied herself with browsing through t-shirts, quietly clearing the lump in her throat.

"Okay, new tactic!" The brunette announced, spinning on her heel to stare evenly at Quinn, who raised her eyebrows, "What do you like about girls?"

The blonde frowned, "What do you mean?"

"What do you like about girls? Do you like it when they wear shorts? Or slouchy sweatshirts?" Rachel shrugged, "For example, I like men who have crooked smiles. I like it when they wear shirts. I like curly hair. And I would imagine that if I were attracted to girls, I would like floaty summer dresses and would probably still like crooked smiles and would definitely not like it if they had Adam's apples."

Quinn laughed loudly as Rachel grimaced comically, "Yeah, I definitely like girls who don't have Addam's apples."

"So what _do_ you like?"

"Uh…" The blonde frowned, "I don't really know. I liked Brittany's eyes. Kitty had a nice smile, not that she actually smiled much. Just the once, actually, I think. Uh…I like abs." She shrugged, "I've never really thought about it much. I just know I like girls. And either way, I don't see how this is relevant."

Rachel shrugged, "I was hoping we could work out your target market and appeal to that." She sighed, twisting her mouth thoughtfully, "I just think that if it were me, and I wanted to date a girl…I'd want to date her because she was girly. Like, I'd want a girl in flowery dresses who wore make-up and cute clothes that I could steal all the time and who I could cry at stupid movies with. All the things I can't do with guys."

"Fair enough." Quinn nodded, "Although I still don't see how this helps."

"I don't know. I just thought maybe you should try a different tactic." Rachel replied, tilting her head thoughtfully.

The blonde raised an eyebrow with a small chuckle, "So you think I need one of those big movie make-overs? Like Miss Congeniality?"

Rachel giggled, "I wouldn't say you need anything so _extreme_, but why not? Why not try something different; maybe step outside your comfort zone? We tidied up your apartment, now it's time to tidy up your wardrobe."

"Okay." Quinn nodded slowly, "Outside of my comfort zone, huh?"

-oOo-

The blonde was sat cross-legged on the sofa whilst a large mirror stood on the coffee table in front of her. The laptop was perched on the couch beside her and the coffee table was littered with various tubes, brushes, pots and cases. She sighed heavily as she scrolled down the How-To internet page on the screen, but jumped, startled, as a familiar face bustled in behind her.

"So what are you wearing for this date?" Santana called as she strode to the fridge.

Quinn rolled her eyes, before calling out with forced enthusiasm, "Hey, San! Good to see you, as always. Come on in, make yourself comfortable! Do you want anything? A drink, something to eat? I'm just getting ready for my date with an evil psychopath that you set me up with against my will, how was your day?"

"What are you wearing?" The brunette repeated as she entered the living room with a carton of apple juice and perched on the corner of the coffee table, staring at the blonde. She unscrewed the lid as Quinn sighed, scrolling through the web page, before taking a large swig of juice directly from the carton. The blonde looked up, grimacing disgustedly, before turning back to the laptop.

"I'm trying to do my make-up before I get dressed." She replied in a bored voice, and Santana raised an eyebrow.

"Want me to do it?"

The blonde sighed, "Yes. But I also feel like I should learn to do it myself."

"So you're using wikipedia?" Santana chortled, but Quinn glared at her, narrowing her eyes.

"No, I'm using this website called Beauty Nerd."

"Ooh! _You're_ their target market." Santana interjected, and Quinn snorted.

"It's full of make-up tutorials, I'm trying to learn to do it."

The brunette nodded interestedly, "Should you not be practicing one day when, like…you're not leaving your house in an hour to go on a date? Like, have you even started yet?"

Quinn shifted uncomfortably, "No?"

"Okay," Santana nodded, "I'll do it for today, then you can practice later when it's less…important. And if you need help I can, like…show you how and stuff."

The blonde sighed, finally admitting defeat as she snapped the laptop shut, "Fine. Okay. Thank you."

"It's fine." Santana shrugged, clearing some space on the coffee table and lifting her legs to cross them in front of her, "So go get your outfit. Then I can see what you're going to wear and I can make your make-up match."

Quinn nodded before following instructions. She pushed herself off the sofa and bounded up the spiral staircase. Opening the large wardrobe, she retrieved the hanger that Rachel had set up, before returning down stairs. She held it up in front of Santana and lifted the waterproof cover off. The brunette frowned.

"What the hell is that?" She asked, gazing up and down at the outfit.

"What? What's wrong with it?" Quinn sighed heavily.

Santana shrugged, shaking her head, "Nothing's…_wrong_ with it. It's just, I don't know…I don't exactly picture you in it."

"Rachel said maybe I should try something new, so…I'm trying something new." She tilted her head, looking unsurely at the brunette, who stared up at the pale green floral-printed dress.

"Well…it's new." Santana nodded slowly.

"You don't like it?" The blonde chewed her lip nervously, "Should I wear something else?"

"I like it! I didn't say I don't like it!" The other girl replied exasperatedly, "I've just…I've known you a long time and I don't think I've _ever_ seen you wear a dress. I'm just," She shrugged, "kind of wondering why you're going to wear one now."

Quinn sighed heavily and laid the hanger over the back of the couch, "Well, let's face it, San. Being myself hasn't got me very far, has it?"

"Excuse me?" Santana replied angrily, standing up and glaring at the blonde, "'Being myself hasn't got me very far'? Oh, please, Quinn. That is bullshit; where did you even get that from? You're right, so far being yourself hasn't got you a girlfriend. Big deal, just give it time. I think you'll find that being yourself has given you an awesome job, an amazing apartment, two pets who love you unconditionally and most importantly, we are a thousand miles from Lima, Ohio." She crossed her arms across her chest, "You don't need to wear a dress to impress a date. If you want to wear the dress then go ahead. Be my guest, I'm sure you'll look just great. Just don't wear the dress because you need to be something other than yourself. Because then, if you do get a girlfriend from it, you will never be able to be yourself because you will be so terrified of losing said girlfriend. So just have a long think about that."

"I just meant that girls don't seem to be impressed by worn t-shirts and jeans. But, you know, thanks." She grinned brightly at the brunette, who rolled her eyes and sighed heavily.

"So are you wearing the dress?"

Quinn bit her lip, gazing down at the dress before raising her eyebrows at Santana, "You think I'll look okay?"

Santana snorted with laughter, "Yes. Though you like to keep it a secret, I know that there's shape under that baggy sweater and misshapen pants. So as long as you've shaved your bear legs, yes. Wear the dress."

The blonde rolled her eyes and shook her head, "I've shaved my legs!"

"Then why waste that?" Santana grinned, leaning forward to tap the hanger, "Is that a yes?"

Quinn scowled before nodding.

"Okay then!" The brunette clapped her hands together before slapping the sofa cushion, "Sit down and let's go!"

Half an hour later, Quinn was stood in front of the mirror in her bedroom, frowning at her reflection while Santana hovered behind her, peering over her shoulder.

"Do I look okay?" The blonde whined, "Really?"

"You look great!" Santana slapped her back and nodded encouragingly, "And your date is going to be awesome."

"Ugh, I haven't even considered the actual date." Quinn sighed, "Do I _have _to go? Kitty was really mean."

The brunette rolled her eyes, "I promise she was much nicer when we were in the car. You'll have a great time! And more importantly, it's just drinks at a hotel bar. It's hardly a proposal in Central Park. Just calm down and enjoy yourself."

"Mm. I'll try."

"Anyway, if we don't call you a cab you're going to be late, so let's get moving." Santana turned away and jogged down the stairs to retrieve her phone and call a cab company. Quinn watched her go in the mirror before looking back to her own reflection.

To be entirely honest, she wasn't sure how she looked. Sure, Santana said she looked great…but she couldn't really judge for herself. She'd never seen herself in a dress, or a skirt. The closest she'd ever come was seeing herself in a towel. She supposed she didn't have anything to compare herself to. Aside from Santana or Rachel, who both consistently looked fabulous. Even when Rachel was sweaty from rehearsing or Santana was covered in soot and wearing a giant yellow fire-proof coat, both were still gorgeous.

She took a deep breath as Santana called her name from the living room, before closing the wardrobe and turning on her heel. The brunette wolf-whistled as she descended the spiral staircase, and Quinn's cheeks burned.

"Okay!" Santana clapped her hands together, "Your cab will be here in like, two minutes. I've packed your bag. You have mascara and lipstick to touch up through the night if you feel necessary. You also have other essentials such as tissues, blister plasters because you're wearing new shoes, a comb for your hair along with your cards, I.D and cash. Will you need anything else?"

"I don't think so." Quinn shook her head quickly, looking panicked.

"Obviously you have your phone, but that can also go in the bag whenever necessary. Put it in the bag when you're talking to her or you look rude. Make sure to smile. Bat your eyelashes. Don't talk about your job for too long; it's boring. Be yourself." A car honked outside, and Santana nodded towards the window, "I'll look after Cobweb and Barney. Go get in your cab. And be nice!"

The blonde nodded through Santana's instructions before taking a deep breath and turning for the door, "Okay. It's gonna be fine."

"It's gonna be great! You're going to have fun!" Santana replied enthusiastically as she walked the blonde to the door.

"Let Cobweb out if she scratches. Barney needs a walk at around nine."

"I am all over it." The brunette nodded, "Don't worry. Just enjoy yourself." She pulled the girl into a tight hug before spinning her round by the shoulders and gently pushing her out into the hall.

Quinn sent her one last nervous grin before her apartment door was slammed in her face. She took a deep breath as the car honked again, and she quickly skipped down the stairs before heading out onto the street and ducking into the car. She gave the address and sat back, shifting uncomfortably as she watched buildings whizz past. Her leg was bouncing nervously through the journey, and she was almost relieved when they arrived. After paying quickly, she stepped out onto the sidewalk and gazed up at the huge art-deco building.

The rooms at the front of the hotel looked out onto the city, and each had large French doors with wrought-iron railings around the balconies. There were intricate stained-glass windows surrounding the huge glass entrance, and Quinn's stomach flipped as she stared through them to the luxurious foyer. She took a deep breath, blowing it out in a long stream in an attempt to calm her nerves, before stepping up to the doors. She smiled at the uniformed doorman as he pulled open one of the door for her, and he nodded politely in response.

She gazed around the tiled foyer before a sign saying 'Bar/Restaurant' caught her eye. She glanced around for any sign of Kitty, before walking slowly in the direction the sign was pointing. Sleek wooden double doors led her into a glamorous bar full of dark wood and mirrored walls. Behind the bar there were numerous shelves of oddly-shaped bottles of various colours and sizes, and Quinn gazed at them, slightly-open mouthed with awe. The bar stretched around a long, curved wall, and a row of stools stood in front of it, some of which were occupied, whilst other tables of different sizes were scattered around the huge room. On the opposite side, beside a wall of glass which looked out onto the street, there were a collection of booths and sofas with coffee tables.

Quinn scanned the huge room until her eyes fell on the familiar blonde, who was perched on one of the bar stools nursing a cocktail glass. She was wearing a strapless black dress that fell to her knee, flaring out at her waist, and heavy black eyeliner. Quinn watched, ambling slowly closer as the blonde at the bar fingered the stem of her glass, gazing thoughtfully into her drink. She couldn't help but notice how much prettier the girl looked when she was lost in thought. Her features seemed harder when she was focused, and Quinn admired her for a second until steeling her nerves and stepping up to the girl.

"Hi." She greeted, attempting not to look like she was forcing her smile.

Kitty frowned, "Uh, hi?" She glanced around the bar before looking back to Quinn, "What are you doing here?"

"Uh…" Quinn raised an eyebrow, confused, "I'm here for our date?"

The blonde gave a small smile, narrowing her eyes incredulously, "_Our_ date? I'm sorry?"

"Yeah." She nodded, "Why else would you be here?"

"I'm meeting Santana." Kitty replied, her frown deepening as she spun her stool slightly so she was turned towards Quinn.

"But," Quinn glanced away thoughtfully, "Santana's at my apartment."

"Why?"

"She's looking after my cat and my dog while I'm on a date with _you_. Why would she be here?" She shook her head, suddenly feeling awkward. She was still hovering by the girl's stool, while Kitty was staring up at her.

Kitty opened and closed her mouth a few times before replying, "Because she asked me on a date."

"She did?" Quinn frowned, "But this makes no sense."

"Yeah. I'm aware." Kitty nodded, "Why would she send _you_?"

Quinn rolled her eyes, sighing impatiently, "Because she set up this date for me. Or at least, that's what she told me. I have no idea what you _think_ she told you."

"Excuse me?" Kitty raised an eyebrow, her expression hardening, "What I _think_ she told me?"

"Well yeah, because she called _me _and said that she'd set me up on a date with you and told me where to meet you and I said I didn't want to come because you were…well, _kinda bitchy_, and she convinced me to come anyway. So I went shopping and let my _other_ friend convince me to _actually _buy a _dress _so I could make a 'good impression', and then Santana gave me a _huge _pep-talk and I took one of the longest cab rides of my _life_ only to arrive here and find out that my suspicions were correct, and you _are_ kinda bitchy and the entire thing was a huge waste of time." Quinn nodded, "Thanks for the date. It was great!"

She moved to flounce off in a dramatic statement, but Kitty kicked her leg out, effectively trapping Quinn between the bar, stools and her leg. She raised an eyebrow coolly, "Get a drink."

"Why should I?" Quinn shook her head with a wry, exhaling laugh.

Kitty quirked an eyebrow and gave a small shrug with one shoulder, "Because you put so much work in."

Quinn gave a sharp sigh, glancing around and weighing up her options. Her mouth twisted thoughtfully before she reached out to spin the bar stool beside Kitty's, turning it to perch primly beside the blonde.

"Why do you even _want_ me to stay?" Quinn shrugged, "Seeing as you thought you were meeting _Santana_." She couldn't resist rolling her eyes, and Kitty's mouth slowly spread into a smile.

"So, someone's bitter." She observed, and Quinn frowned.

"What are you talking about?"

Kitty shrugged knowingly, "Well, it seems like _maybe_ you're kinda pissed that you thought you were coming on a date, but _actually_ your date thought she was supposed to be meeting your best friend. Maybe bitter isn't the word. Jealous maybe?"

"I'm not jealous of Santana." Quinn snorted, shaking her head firmly.

"I'm sure you're not." Kitty shook her head, clearly not believing her, "I mean, why would you be jealous of your gorgeous best friend who gets all the girls?"

"Exactly. Why _would_ I be?" Quinn nodded, "Why would I be jealous of the girl who has to sneak out of people's apartments? Who has to run half-naked across gardens with her hands tied together? Who ends up with married women wanting to get serious with her? Why would I want that?"

Kitty raised an eyebrow, "Because she's confident and she knows what she wants and she gets it."

"Which, if you remember rightly, wasn't you." Quinn replied. She knew it was a cheap shot, but she couldn't resist. She was worried that Kitty's cool demeanour and knowing stare had hit a nerve.

"Apparently not." The blonde chuckled, almost to herself, "Although to be fair, she never actually stated that the date wasn't with _her_. In my defence."

"What do you mean?" Quinn frowned.

Kitty took a sip of her drink, "Well, I was about to get out of the car and she said 'So, how about a date?' and I said, 'Sure, okay.' And she said 'Where?' and I said this place and she asked when and I said…well, now. And she nodded and said 'Sounds good.' She never specified that she was _setting me up with her best friend_, and not asking me out."

"Well. Sorry to be such a disappointment." The other girl deadpanned.

"Oh get over yourself." Kitty rolled her eyes, "So what? I thought I was going on a date with someone else. I'm still here, and you still put all that effort in. And I think it's sweet that you did that for me. Especially when I saw how badly you were dressed the other day, so I know _this_," She waved a finger at Quinn's outfit, "isn't the usual. So get a drink, stop looking like you're going to flee at any minute and try to enjoy yourself."

Quinn sighed, before nodding, and Kitty waved the barman over, "Hey, my friend here would like a drink please." She gave him a charming smile, and he nodded nervously in return.

"What can I get you, ma'am?"

"Uh…I'll have a Long Island ice tea please." Kitty quirked an eyebrow as she ordered, and Quinn was grateful that Brittany had urged her to try it. She suspected Kitty wouldn't have been as understanding as Brittany had been. "Do you want anything?" She raised her eyebrows at Kitty, who shrugged nonchalantly.

"Strawberry Mimosa." She nodded, "Put it on the tab."

She turned back to Quinn with a cool stare, and the blonde attempted not to shift uncomfortably, instead choosing to watch the barman making the cocktails.

"So do you want me to set you up with Santana?" The blonde asked wryly, raising her eyebrows as she watched the man behind the bar pouring drinks into a cocktail shaker.

"Not particularly." Kitty replied, "Just because I said yes when I thought she was asking, doesn't mean I'm disappointed that she's not here." Quinn nodded slowly as the barman leaned over and placed their drinks on paper napkins in front of them.

"Fair enough." She turned slightly so she was facing the other girl, "I suppose Santana was right. You do get nicer the more time I spend with you."

Kitty gave a small shrug, "I make a point of only being nice to people once I know they're worth it. Otherwise you waste your time on complete strangers who turn out to be total assholes."

"Then why did you help me get Cobweb out of the tree?" Quinn frowned curiously.

"Because Cobweb is a defenceless animal. Jesus, Quinn, I didn't know you were so heartless." She replied seriously, and the other blonde's jaw dropped.

She looked affronted, "What? I'm not heartless!"

"Oh my God, Quinn! I was joking!" Kitty giggled, rolling her eyes.

Quinn nodded slowly, "Oh. Okay."

"Sorry." She replied, straight-faced, "Sometimes I make jokes but forget to sound sarcastic and people think I'm being serious. It gets me in trouble sometimes." She grimaced comically as Quinn gave a wry smile,

"I can imagine it would."

"Besides, I love cats." Kitty nodded with a small smile.

Quinn raised her eyebrows, "Oh, so Kitty is a nickname?"

"Of course it's a nickname, Quinn! Calling a child Kitty would be borderline child abuse." The blonde snorted, "Short for Katherine."

"Huh. I didn't see you as a Katherine." The other girl tilted her head thoughtfully.

"Neither did I. Hence the nickname." She giggled, and Quinn rolled her eyes self-deprecatingly. "So do you wanna go up to the roof?" Kitty asked suddenly, and the girl's eyebrows shot skyward.

"Uh…what's on the roof? If it's some sort of awesome obstacle course then hell yeah! If it's a dog-fighting ring then eh…no. I'll give it a miss." She shrugged.

Kitty laughed loudly, "There's just another bar. But like, this is a pretty tall building so it has an awesome view of the city."

"Oh. Okay." Quinn smiled with a small nod, "Cool."

Kitty hopped off her bar stool, picking up her drink with one hand and holding the other out to Quinn. She glanced down at it for a second, and a small smirk formed on Kitty's face, before taking the blonde's hand and climbing off her stool. She grabbed her drink as the girl tugged her away from the bar and out into the foyer. They slipped into an open elevator and Kitty smiled at the attendant stood inside. She raised a finger pointing upwards and the man nodded before pushing a button at the top of a large bank of numbers.

"So it's a good view?" Quinn raised an eyebrow, breaking the awkward silence between them as soft music played in the background.

"The best!" Kitty gushed, nodding firmly.

They fell silent again and Quinn frantically wracked her brains for something to say. Kitty stood calmly beside her, her hand still hovering awkwardly beside Quinn's, who wondered if she was supposed to be holding it. Her hand suddenly felt leaden, and it twitched nervously as Kitty's skin brushed against the back of her hand. Maybe she should move it altogether; cross her arms over her chest, maybe? But would Kitty think she didn't like her? _Did_ she like her? She wasn't quite sure. She wondered if Kitty had any idea of the emotional trauma she was going through. She attempted to look at the blonde in her peripheral vision, but the girl was stood slightly behind her and turning her head might draw attention.

The elevator pinged and Quinn released a long sigh of relief as the elevator doors slid open smoothly. Kitty grinned at her before taking her hand once more and leading her out onto a large roof terrace. Another long bar stood in the centre, lit with coloured neon lights whilst a collection of stylish seating was scattered across the patio. Kitty wandered forward and Quinn gasped as they neared the edge and the city came into full view. The buildings loomed over them in a shadowy half-light as stars appeared one-by-one in the inky sky above them. She gaped down at the patchwork of streets beneath them, whilst the light from cars, office buildings and streetlamps set an orange glow on their faces as Quinn gently placed her glass on the half-wall at the edge of the terrace.

Kitty smiled contentedly as she placed her drink beside Quinn's and rested her forearms on the wall.

"So," Quinn mused, "you were planning on bringing Santana to see all this. Is it your favourite view?"

"One of them." Kitty admitted with a casual shrug, "Although it's kind of irritating that I have to buy a ten dollar drink whenever I want to see it."

"Shame you weren't going on a date with Santana, then." She snorted as she stared out at the city spread out in front of them, "She lives in this huge apartment building and the view from her balcony is incredible."

Kitty turned to face her, her hip resting against the wall, "Why are you so hung up on the fact that I thought Santana was coming, and not you?"

"Because you wouldn't be here otherwise. It feels insincere." Quinn shrugged honestly, and Kitty narrowed her eyes.

"How is it insincere, exactly?"

Quinn rolled her head round to raise an eyebrow at the girl, "Because you were practically tricked into coming here! If you'd known the truth you'd probably be home watching the Kardashians in your pyjamas and eating Reece's peanut buttercups and not wasting your time with me." She chuckled, shaking her head slowly, but Kitty was frowning.

"Excuse me? So if I wasn't on a date with you I'd be at home being pathetic? How charming." She rolled her eyes as Quinn spun round.

"That wasn't what I meant! I didn't mean it like that. I mean, you'd probably be having more fun because you'd be doing whatever _you want_ to be doing. I'm sorry. That all came out…wrong." She turned back to the view with an uncomfortable grimace.

"What I want to be doing?" Kitty repeated with a chuckle, "Are you kidding? Quinn do you not think that if this _wasn't_ what I wanted to be doing…I wouldn't be doing it? I could have left at any time so far, and I haven't. So get over yourself." She shrugged brightly, "And for the record, if I wasn't out with you I'd be in a club with my friends somewhere getting drunk off my face, making horrible decisions and dancing some hottie into dehydration. For the record."

Quinn nodded slowly, "Well that's somewhat comforting. I'm glad you would rather be here with me than risking the health of attractive strangers. Thanks." She grinned at the blonde, who giggled.

"So, you've seen the view. Now come here and tell me about your life." Kitty drained her drink, leaving it on the wall as she turned away, sauntering over to one of the sofas. A canopy of thin, white material hung over the tall frame, whilst the seat was covered with a selection of scatter cushions, and the blonde perched on the edge with an expectant smile.

Quinn carried her drink across, placing it on the low glass table in front of them before joining the girl on the plush sofa. She took a deep breath as she prepared herself for a round of questioning from the enigmatic blonde, "So what about my life?"

"How did you meet Santana? You're not exactly a pair I'd put together."

"School." Quinn nodded, "And you're right; we weren't. She was a cheerleader and I was…to quote, 'that blonde loser with the huge backpack.' I took lots of extra classes." She added as Kitty giggled, "Yeah, we sat next to each other, became friends but told no one; far too damaging to her reputation and my…entire life."

"Why would being friends with Santana ruin your life?" The blonde asked with a puzzled frown.

"Well that depends, do you mean during school or now? In school my parents would never have let me be friends with her and I'd probably have been grounded for daring to suggest it. Now, well, she likes to trespass on my property, sometimes while I'm sleeping and defenceless. Not to mention setting me up on dates with unsuspecting victims," She waved a hand to Kitty, who nodded with a chuckle, "and ensuring to always, _always_ regale me with stories of her latest conquests. In _vividly_ horrifying detail."

"So how come your parents wouldn't have let you be friends with her?" Kitty frowned, and Quinn snorted.

"You're full of questions." Quinn remarked, and Kitty nodded shamelessly, "Well, they're a little…straight-laced, shall we say? They're pretty disapproving of…literally everything. They were pretty good slave-drivers and insisted that school was the be-all and end-all. Eventually I got tired of listening to them so I ran away to New York for college with San."

"They sound like a laugh-a-minute."

"They are now I'm disowned!" Quinn grinned, raising her glass in cheers and finishing the last mouthfuls, "They're asshats." She shrugged.

Kitty nodded, "Yeah, my mom was kind of an ass-hat."

"How come?"

"Uh, she left when I was…two?" The blonde replied quickly, and Quinn's jaw dropped slightly.

"No way, I'm so sorry."

Kitty shrugged once again, "Let me get more drinks and then I'll tell you all about it."

"No. Wait," Quinn held up her hand and pushed herself to her feet, "I'll get them. Same again?" Kitty nodded and she pushed herself to her feet.

"Put it on the tab!" The blonde called after her as Quinn made her way to the bar, ordering quickly and returning to the couch where the blonde girl was sat more comfortably.

"So what happened?"

"Well, my mom was going to work. My dad had the day off work so he was looking after me. She was meant to finish and be home around five but she never came back. Simple as that. We never heard from her again." Kitty shrugged whilst Quinn frowned sympathetically.

"I'm so sorry; that must have been really hard."

"Not really. It was harder for my dad, really. He was left with twin nine-year-olds, a six-year-old and me; age two." She smiled sweetly.

Quinn raised her eyebrows, looking impressed, "Wow. If I ever meet him, remind me to shake your dad's hand for making it through the teenage years."

"I know. Four teenage daughters." Kitty nodded firmly, "The man is a saint. He learnt to braid my hair, and how to cook and sew. He even managed to make the sex talk only a _tiny_ bit weird."

"Well that's better than both of my parents put together. I had an au pair to tie my shoes and brush my hair, and they never had to have the sex talk with me because they'd been preaching that sex before marriage was an abomination since I learnt to walk."

"I'm sure they'd be so proud to see you drinking cocktails on a New York rooftop on a date with a girl."

"_So proud_." Quinn whispered, nodding mock- earnestly.

"So no siblings?"

"No siblings." She shook her head, "What are yours like?"

"Well Jade and Mallory fell out about four years ago – they're the twins." Kitty told her, and Quinn nodded, "They argued over something stupid. I think it was a pair of shoes that Mallory borrowed and then lost. Either way they haven't spoken properly since. My other sister Tamsin and I try not to pick sides. Mallory never _tries_ to make us pick sides, but Jade is a little harder to get around." Kitty paused thoughtfully, running the fingertip of her index finger around the rim of her glass, "None of that really matters, though. They manage to be civil when it's necessary, like when my dad is around. We all got good jobs, and my dad's proud of us. Mallory has her own business which she manages to make profitable around her busy soccer-mom schedule. Jade is a lawyer, Tamsin's an edgy, urban graphic designer; she's all up-and-coming. She also lives in New York and I see her the most. I can tell they all wish I'd done something that didn't involve wearing tiny outfits and being thrown in the air but…we all stuck to what we were good at. And we're all successful."

"What more can a parent ask for?" Quinn shrugged, "So they're all cool with the whole gay thing?"

"Bisexual thing, but yeah." Kitty nodded, "Mallory was a little…" She did a comical wince and Quinn chuckled, "But she got better. They're all cool."

"Huh." The blonde chuckled, "I can't even imagine that."

"Well, they're pretty cool. Sometimes I used to pretend my mom would have freaked out about it if she'd been there. That way I could be glad she'd left." Kitty looked away, staring down at the table-top as Quinn's eyebrows raised slowly.

"That's…wow." Her response sounded inherently foolish, and she opened her mouth to say something more insightful, but found nothing.

"It's okay! Don't worry." Kitty reached out and placed a hand over Quinn's, "I can see the cogs in your brain whirring trying to think of something comforting to say. So don't worry. I'm sorry; usually I don't tell people stuff like that."

"It's okay. You can feel free to tell me…I should just warn you that I'm socially awkward and terrible at dealing with situations. So I'll probably just stay quiet."

Kitty chuckled, nodding slowly, "That's fine, don't worry about it. So…my next question."

"Hit me. I'm prepared." Quinn shifted so she could focus mock-seriously on Kitty's face.

"Your idea of a fun night is eating Reese's peanut butter cups in your pyjamas and watching the Kardashians?"

"Maybe." She looked away with a playful grimace, and Kitty giggled.

"It is isn't it? Oh my God. Quinn, you're so wild." She replied in a mock-awestruck tone, and Quinn's cheeks flushed pink.

"Whatever! I'm just not one for fraternizing with sweaty, half-naked strangers and dancing to music so loud that my eardrums could burst at any second. It's not really my idea of fun, that's all. If I'm going to get pass-out drunk, I'd rather do it in the comfort of my own home, or somewhere peaceful with good company."

"Like here?" Kitty asked quickly, her eyebrows raised challengingly.

Quinn nodded, a small smile playing around her lips, "Yes. Like here."


	14. Chapter 14

**Hey guys! Thank you all so much for reading, and especially thank you for reviewing :D they're always appreciated and I like reading them while I'm at work, so keep them coming please! Feedback is always welcome and I love hearing all of your different theories and what you're liking.**

**So thank you very much, and hope you continue to enjoy...**

* * *

**You get up and go and I miss you the minute you walk out of my door. Never know when it's gonna hit you, just when you think your heart's still on the floor – **_**Schuyler Fisk, Afterglow**_

"Okay, uh…most embarrassing moment…" Kitty bit her lip as she stared up at the night sky thoughtfully. Her cheeks were flushed from the alcohol, and Quinn found herself grinning inanely as she watched the girl, "Okay, yeah. Sorry, there were a few to choose from."

"I refuse to believe that." Quinn snorted, "No _way_ miss cool cheerleader ever embarrasses herself."

"Yeah well," Kitty shrugged, "Being the bitchy cheerleader isn't without its cringing." She took a deep breath, pulling her feet up onto the couch. They had both taken their shoes off a while ago, and the blonde plucked at the pantyhose on her feet. Quinn's hair had lost its sleek look and was now ruffled, while Kitty's thick eyeliner was smudged around her eyes. "So, this one time I was stood in the girls bathrooms at my school, and there was this girl who had annoyed me. We had art together and I needed a model for my photos and she was all 'I'd totally do it but my hair isn't right today.' And 'I'd do it for you but I have this huge zit.' And I was just like 'Shut the fuck up, I don't want your nasty face in my pictures!'"

"Harsh." Quinn nodded admiringly.

"Yeah. And that story right there was the _exact_ story I was telling in the bathrooms…as she walked out of the stall behind me." Kitty finished with an awkward grimace as Quinn's jaw dropped with horror.

"Oh my God!" The blonde laughed, "That's awful. What did you do?"

Kitty shook her head, her face burning at the memory, "I stood awkwardly for about two seconds before deciding I physically couldn't take it. I was just like 'So…the girls are waiting…outside so…I'll go wait with them.' And scuttled out of the bathroom with my tail between my legs. It was horrifying."

"It sounds horrifying!" Quinn giggled, "That's terrible."

"I know. I still feel bad when I think of it. She ended up confronting me on the way home from school and I had to just apologize and hang my head in shame. It was truly awful. So what's yours?" She leaned forward excitedly as Quinn frowned.

"One time I let Santana cut my hair." She nodded, "End of story."

"That doesn't count!"

"Literally, every day until it grew back was the most embarrassing day of my life." Quinn shook her head incredulously, "But honestly, there are far too many stories to choose from. One time I fell out of a moving van."

"What? How?" Kitty gasped, looking delighted, "A 'moving van' or a _moving_ van? And why were you in a moving van?"

Quinn stared at her for a second, "We were moving."

"Oh. Of course. Anyway!"

"Anyway, I opened the door to get out, but my foot got caught on my seat. So my upper body left the van, but my bottom half didn't. All I saw was the ground slowly getting closer to my face. But because my foot was caught, I ended up just hanging a few feet from the ground. It was then that I realised that I could either move my foot and fall to a possible asphalt-y death, or I could attempt to use my upper body strength to pull myself up."

"What did you do?" The blonde asked, looking awed.

"Well, while I was trying to pull myself up, my dad leaned over and pulled the level under my chair. The chair slid backwards, my foot was no longer caught and I landed in the middle of the road. On my face. In front of the majority of our new neighbours, who had come out to say hi."

"Wow. That_ is_ pretty awful." Kitty nodded, giggling.

Quinn nodded slowly, "Yes. Yes it is. I had a huge scrape down my face for a week."

"Awh man! At least it didn't scar?" The blonde shrugged.

"It did scar!" She exclaimed, "Look!"

She leaned towards Kitty, pointing to a tiny line above her eyebrow. The other girl squinted, grimacing with confusion, "Hey! Move your hand, your finger is in the way." She took Quinn's hand, pulling it away as she gazed at the smooth skin. "I can't see a scar."

"Really? It's there!" Quinn insisted, nodding her head. Kitty giggled again, placing her other hand under Quinn's chin.

"Keep still!" She frowned, "No, it's definitely not there."

"Huh." Quinn looked dismayed, "Oh! I know why! It's the other side!"

She turned her head quickly, and Kitty recoiled as Quinn's forehead almost bashed against her jaw. Chuckling, she narrowed her eyes at the girl's eyebrow, nodding slowly.

"Oh yeah, you're right. I see it now." She glanced down and met Quinn's eye as she gazed innocently up at her. "Not that it matters. You can barely see it and even when you can…it's cute." She shrugged, leaning forward and gently pressing her lips to the tiny scar. "Still perfect."

"I once needed dental work two hours before class pictures. Half of my face was numb and I was drooling everywhere." Quinn blurted as her heart raced. Kitty paused, her hand still sitting under Quinn's jaw, before pulling away as she chuckled.

"I want to see that picture."

"You will _never_ see that picture." Quinn replied, shaking her head adamantly.

Kitty reached for her drink, throwing back the last couple of mouthfuls before turning to the other girl boldly, "Okay. We've finished our drinks. I can either order another round…or we could go back to my apartment?"

Quinn resisted the urge to gasp, instead taking a long, deep breath. Suddenly, the rooftop bar was spinning. She had wondered about this moment so many times, and now that it was here she had no idea how to react. She had always planned clever answers and things to say, but now she seemed to be suffering from a mental block, the words stuck in her throat. She nodded slowly, and Kitty giggled.

"I'm sorry. Was that too sudden?" The girl looked shy, and Quinn blinked a couple of times before shaking her head a little.

"No, it's fine. But…yeah. Let's do it." She felt breathless, and her heart felt like it was hammering against her ribcage.

Kitty grinned, climbing to her feet, "Just let me go pay the tab."

"Wait, let me-"

Quinn was cut off as Kitty rolled her eyes and turned to wander away to the bar, shaking her head. Once she returned, she stood by her seat and leaned over to hook her fingers through the straps of her shoes. She also picked up Quinn's, passing them to the blonde as she pushed herself up, swaying slightly as she stood upright. Kitty held out her hand, grinning at Quinn, who accepted the offer and followed her back toward the elevator.

As the doors slid shut and the elevator music filled Quinn's ears, Kitty spun round on the spot. She tugged on Quinn's hand, pulling the girl closer, before flattening her against the wall. The handrail dug into the small of Quinn's back as Kitty's mouth pressed against her own, and the metal felt cold against her skin through the cut-out shape at the back of her dress. Kitty tasted tangy, like the strawberry mimosas she had been drinking all night, and Quinn smiled inwardly as the blonde's icy tongue flicked across her lips.

The elevator pinged, and Kitty stepped back suddenly, pulling Quinn upright once more and standing unperturbed beside her as the doors slid open smoothly. Kitty stepped out, tugging Quinn behind her and crossed to the doorman. She ordered a taxi quickly, ignoring the man's disapproving look at their shoe-less feet, before stepping back into the foyer. The cab arrived shortly afterwards, and they tip-toed across the sidewalk before clambering in, pulling their feet up onto the seat and off the dirty floor of the cab.

"How long is the journey?" Quinn asked, more out of a desire to make conversation rather than a genuine interest. Kitty smiled kindly, and for a moment Quinn wondered if the girl could sense her nerves.

"It's not far away, we should only be a few minutes." Kitty nodded, "What about you? Do you, Barney and Cobweb live far out?"

"Further out than you, by the sounds of it." Quinn chuckled, "We live kind of on the border line of the suburbs. It's not far out from the city but it's also much less…fast-paced."

"Sounds nice. Maybe I'll see it one day." The blonde shrugged, and Quinn nodded slowly.

They pulled up to a large townhouse a few minutes later, and Kitty deposited a few notes in the driver's hand before swinging the door open and pulling Quinn out behind her. They ran up the stairs to the huge wooden front door, and Kitty tapped in a number on the keypad beside the intercom. There was a loud click and she pushed the door open, dragging Quinn into the large hallway. Apartment one and two sat on either side, and to Quinn's left there was a large bank of pigeon-holes with numbers labelling each one. Kitty squeezed her hand and pulled her towards the large, curving staircase at the end of the hallway.

Quinn sprinted behind the blonde, attempting to keep up with the girl in front of her. Her foot slid off the edge of one of the steps and her feet ran in mid-air for a split second before she lost her balance and was sent careering back down. She thanked God for the stairs being carpeted as she slid down three steps on her front, her dress riding up around her thighs as she slid. She tugged on Kitty's hand during the ordeal, forgetting to let go as she crumpled on the floor, and the other blonde was yanked backwards. She made a grab for the handrail but lost her grip and ended up sat on one of the stairs, sprawled on her back and staring upside-down at the wall opposite.

"What the hell just happened?" She asked in a puzzled tone, whilst Quinn groaned beneath her.

"I'm sorry. I slipped." The girl winced as she began to push herself up again. Kitty managed to spin herself around so she was sat upright on the stairs as Quinn rubbed her shoulder, turning round to sit beside the blonde.

"Are you okay?" Kitty smiled kindly, and Quinn nodded.

"Just another embarrassing moment to add to the list." She shrugged, and Kitty giggled. She stood up, placing a gentle kiss on Quinn's cheek before grabbing her hand again and continuing to pull her up the stairs.

"Be careful. We'll go slower this time." She chuckled, and Quinn began giggling behind her. Their laughter became uncontrollable as they ascended the stairs. Once they had climbed two flights, Kitty stopped by one of the apartment doors. She unlocked it quickly before pushing it open and standing back to allow Quinn entry.

The front door opened onto a cozy living room. The floors were bare boards, like Quinn's, but the room was decorated in warm shades of grey and yellow. She smiled as she gazed around at the walls, which were covered with various graphic prints of birds. She wandered over to the sofa and sat down gingerly as Kitty ambled through the apartment turning lights on. There was a large serving hatch in one wall, and Quinn could see into the green kitchen beyond as Kitty flicked the light on and began clattering about.

"Do you want a drink?" She called, and Quinn nodded, before remembering that Kitty couldn't see her.

"Oh. Yes please!" She replied as she turned her attention to the windows, and the view beyond. Though it wasn't quite as extreme as the view from the rooftop bar, it made her smile to see the vibrant city thriving beyond the glass, whilst she sat in Kitty's homely oasis.

The blonde returned with two glasses of wine, holding them up as she smiled at Quinn, "Hope you like red; it's all I have." She grimaced guiltily but Quinn shrugged.

"Perfect for me." She accepted the glass with a grateful smile, and Kitty sat herself down beside her, her body angled towards Quinn with one leg curled under her body.

"So…I hate to bring up a familiar subject," Kitty gazed down at her glass as she spoke, daring a quick glance to Quinn, whose eyebrows were raised, "But I feel the need to ask…what's the deal with you and Santana?"

Quinn frowned, the alcohol making her head fuzzy, "I'm sorry? What do you mean?"

"Oh God, don't make me say it." Kitty groaned, scrunching her nose up sheepishly, "I already feel like an ass! I just," She shrugged, "I feel like I should know if there's anything…going on…between you. You know, she's pretty, you're cute, you're both…you know. I just wondered." She shrugged again, and Quinn frowned at her for a moment before bursting out in a fit of giggles once more.

"Me and Santana?" She shook her head, looking incredulous, "No. No way. I've known Santana since high school and we're just…no. It's not like that at all."

Kitty looked doubtful, "So there's _never_ been any…?" she trailed off and Quinn shook her head adamantly.

"Never." She chuckled again, "No. Santana's always been too busy chasing the tags of girls' panties; I'm like the home base for her. Never anything romantic."

"Huh. How surprising." Kitty shrugged, gazing into the distance thoughtfully.

Quinn frowned, shaking her head, "I can't believe you would think that."

"Well I didn't know _what _to think." Kitty defended, looking sheepish. "I just wanted to check."

"It's okay." She shrugged, smiling at the blonde, whose mouth twisted indecisively.

"I'm glad, though. That you've never been involved with her." She replied candidly.

"What do you mean?" Quinn narrowed her eyes slightly, puzzled, "Why?"

Kitty looked down again, her cheeks flushing, "Well even if there's never been anything _romantic_, even _you_ can admit that, you know, Santana's kind of-"

"Undeniably gorgeous? Yeah." Quinn rolled her eyes before nodding.

"Yeah. It's a little less…intimidating…to know that you've never…you know." She shrugged nervously, and Quinn smiled to herself.

"You shouldn't be intimidated." She shook her head shyly, and they sat in silence for a few moments, each lost in their own thoughts, until Kitty leaned towards her.

The girl's lips skimmed Quinn's cheek, sending a shiver down her spine, and the blonde smiled nervously, turning her head to press her lips to Kitty's, her heart pounding in her chest as she did so. Kitty shifted on the sofa, pushing herself closer to Quinn and lifting a hand to the back of her neck, tangling her fingers in Quinn's hair to pull her in closer. Unsure of what to do with her hands, Quinn rested her left on Kitty's hip, whilst her right still held her wine glass. When Kitty's tongue slid against her lips once more, she parted them, shifting her body round so she was directly facing the blonde.

Kitty pulled away suddenly, taking Quinn's half-empty wine glass from her hand and depositing on a coaster on the coffee table. She took her now-vacant hand and pulled her to her feet, stepping backwards in the direction of the short hallway by the front door. They exchanged messy kisses as they made their way to the bedroom, and Kitty broke away to flick the switch on a string of fairy lights that wrapped around the bedstead, before returning to where Quinn was standing, slowly turning to gaze around the room. She stepped up behind the blonde, intertwining her fingers with Quinn's and peppering gentle kisses down the side of her neck.

Quinn's breath caught in her throat and her heart began to pound as Kitty's fingers moved to her waist. She opened her mouth to speak, but her cheeks flushed pink and the words caught in her throat. She spun on the spot until she was nose-to-nose with Kitty, who gave a small chuckle in response. The blonde bit her lip with a sultry smile, and Quinn's stomach flipped. She pushed forwards, making Kitty step back as she wound her arms around the girl's waist, pulling her tight against her body. Kitty toppled backwards onto the bed and Quinn came crashing down on top of her. The wind was knocked from her chest, but she had no time to dwell on it as Kitty's lips found hers again, and she tipped them sideways, rolling over until she was straddling Quinn, her fingers stroking circles on the girl's forearms.

Quinn stared up at the ceiling as Kitty placed chaste kisses across her shoulder and collar bone. She could hear blood thumping in her ears and an odd mixture of nerves and excitement twisted unpleasantly in her stomach. She opened her mouth once again to tell Kitty, but only a weak, croaking sound emitted. The other girl pulled bath with a small frown.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah." Quinn nodded, managing to give the girl a small smile. She craned her neck to place another gentle kiss to Kitty's lips, and the blonde smiled coyly.

"Okay." Kitty gave a small nod, her fingers playing with the zip at Quinn's side, her fingers tickling her rib cage.

Kitty glanced up to meet her gaze once more, and Quinn gave her a small smile, before slowly tugging the zip down the length of her side until her fingers could brush the bare skin of Quinn's hip, making her gasp at the unexpected contact. The girl placed a quick kiss to her hip, and Quinn chewed her lip nervously, her eyes darting across the room. She took a deep breath, attempting to calm her nerves. Swallowing her resolve, she took hold of Kitty's zipper, pulling it slowly down the middle of Kitty's back before grabbing her around the waist. She lifted her up and turned them over until Kitty was on her back, and she could tug the dress down, with the girl's help, until it fell to the floor beside the bed.

The blonde giggled, pausing for a moment to look down at Quinn's dress, "Does yours go over your head?" She asked with a grin, and Quinn nodded resignedly.

"I didn't have this scenario in mind when I bought the dress."

"Okay stand up." Kitty chuckled, pushing the girl to her feet before skipping to join her. She took hold of the bottom of Quinn's dress and began shimmying it upward, "Arms up." She ordered, and Quinn obliged with a chuckle, her moments of doubt forgotten. Kitty slid the dress over the blonde's head before tossing it in the direction of a bucket chair in the corner.

Suddenly Quinn felt very aware of the fact that she was stood in her underwear in front of someone who wasn't Rachel or Santana. And more importantly, someone who wasn't screaming 'My eyes!' She felt a little self-conscious, but resisted the urge to lift her arms to cover her stomach. For once she was grateful that Santana was such a busy-body and had forced her into wearing nice(r) underwear. Kitty took a slow step forward, until Quinn could feel the girl's skin brushing lightly against her own. She stared down at the girl, and her stomach turned again. Her chest felt tight as Kitty smiled up at her. As she glanced over to the bed, her head swam unpleasantly, and she took a step back from Kitty, who immediately frowned.

"Are you okay?"

"Um, yeah. I need you to just, uh…" She swallowed hard, her gaze darting around the room as she attempted to choose her words. "Okay, prepare yourself for another one of those awkward, embarrassing moments, okay?" She began pacing nervously, and Kitty took a step back before dropping down onto the bed.

"You're not a man are you? Oh God, are you secretly straight?" The blonde replied in a panicked voice, and Quinn stopped pacing to face the girl, shaking her head adamantly.

"No! I'm definitely not straight and…I _promise_ I'm not a man." She frowned, shaking her head, "Um, actually it's just that…Oh God." She frowned up at the ceiling, taking deep breaths before blurting out, "I've never slept with someone before."

Kitty stared, slightly open-mouthed, "You've never slept with a girl?"

"No. And not just that. Like…anyone. Ever." She stood awkwardly in her underwear in front of the blonde, who was sat in silence, gazing around the bedroom.

"Oh. Okay. I see." Kitty nodded slowly and Quinn cleared her throat quietly.

"Yeah." There was another moment of uncomfortable silence, and she took a deep breath, "I'm _really_ sorry. This _whole_ thing is really weird and…I should have told you earlier _and_ now it's awkward and, uh, I'm really sorry. I'll just, I'm gonna just go."

She turned on her heel, rushing over to the chair where her dress was scattered, her cheeks burning pink, but Kitty stood up suddenly, "Woah! Quinn, calm down. What are you? Do you want to…I don't, I mean, its okay, I…" She hovered nervously behind the girl, her expression set in a confused frown as Quinn began struggling with the inside-out garment. She said nothing to reply, and Kitty took a step forward to reach around her and put her hand on the dress.

The movement stilled Quinn's shaking fingers, and Kitty gently prized the fabric from her hands until she could lay it out on the chair again. Quinn was still facing the corner, refusing to turn around, and Kitty shifted unsurely for a moment before moving to stand directly behind Quinn. She wound her arms around the blonde's waist, holding her tightly and pressing a gentle kiss to the top of her shoulder before resting her chin there.

"Are you okay?" She murmured, her thumb tracing small circles on Quinn's hip. She nodded quickly, and immediately felt silly. They stood in silence for a few moments, and Kitty chewed her cheek indecisively before taking a deep breath, "Okay. Quinn. I get that you're embarrassed and stuff so I'm just gonna say this like…honestly?" She shrugged and Quinn gave a small nod, "Okay. At first I was shocked because, like, well you're really cute and hot and I don't know why this hasn't happened sooner. But whatever, it's not important." She shrugged again, "Either way, if you wanna do this then awesome but if not then you're welcome to stay the night anyway and _I_ don't feel like its awkward, I just wonder if maybe you want to wait so that your first time isn't, you know, on a first date? Or with someone you barely know? And who you didn't really like until about four hours ago. I don't know, it's up to you but yeah, whatever's cool with you is…_cool with me_." She trailed off with a slow nod.

Quinn stood silently for a few seconds, gazing down at Kitty's hands, which were clasped across her stomach. She lifted her hand, stroking her index finger along the length of Kitty's hand, and the blonde shivered, giggling quietly. Quinn shifted, moving so she could turn to face Kitty with the girl's arms still wound around her. She met the girl's eyes, and Kitty gave her a kind smile.

She nodded slowly, "I'm sorry." She admitted in a low voice, but Kitty shook her head with a shrug.

"Hey, don't worry about it! It's fine." She nodded encouragingly, "Seriously."

Quinn gave her a small smile, "Thanks."

"No problem." She replied easily, with a casual shrug, "Do you wanna go to bed? If I promise to keep my hands to myself?"

She nodded, grinning despite herself, and Kitty released her and moved towards the bed. Quinn followed behind her, perching on the edge of the mattress. Kitty tossed a pack of make-up remover wipes onto the bed for Quinn as she pulled the curtains either side of the bed closed, and joined the blonde under the covers. They quickly scrubbed away their make up, before settling down onto the pillows. Kitty took longer, turning and fluffing her pillow before resting her head.

Quinn grinned, "God. You'reso secretly nice."

"I know, right? Who knew?" Kitty shrugged, giggling.

"I still think you should be nicer to people when you meet them though." She added, and Kitty rolled her eyes.

"I dunno." She shrugged, "_Not_ being nice got me a pretty good deal. When it comes to you."

Quinn smiled slyly, "I'm the exception that proves the rule."

Kitty shifted forward slightly, her legs tangling with Quinn's as they shifted to get comfortable. She leaned forward, craning her neck slightly to press her lips to Quinn's once more. The girl smiled into the kiss, lifting her hand to Kitty's neck and winding her hand into her hair. When the broke away, Quinn was smiling breathlessly.

"Hey, Kitty?"

"Sup?" The blonde grinned.

"Thank you for tonight." Quinn nodded, "I'm sorry that this date didn't turn out very…like, you know."

Kitty shrugged, "It's okay. I enjoyed myself."

"Me too. It was a good date." She smiled.

"You _do _owe me another one though." Kitty nodded earnestly.

Quinn chuckled, before nodding enthusiastically, "It's a date."

-oOo-

Quinn unlocked the door quietly, slowly pushing it open until she could slide her head through the gap and peek into the room. Santana was sprawled across the sofa in her underwear and one of Quinn's t-shirts, her mouth hanging open as she snored loudly. The blonde stifled a giggle as she edged into the room, tiptoeing to the pegs and removing her coat slowly. Barney was laid across Santana's legs, tangled in the blanket that Quinn suspected had started the night covering the girl, whilst Cobweb was curled up in a tight ball next to Santana's head. Quinn held her arm to her mouth to muffle her laughter as she took hold of the door handle. She pulled her arm back before slamming the door shut with a loud bang.

Santana made a loud grunting noise as she sat bolt upright. Cobweb, disrupted by the girl's movement, leapt off the couch, her claws clattering on the floor as she scarpered. Quinn fell into a fit of giggles as Barney took the opportunity to use Santana's legs as a launching pad. He jumped off the sofa with a messy scramble before jogging over to Quinn, who knelt down to greet him, whilst Santana groaned loudly, rubbing at her eyes.

"You are an ass hole!" She called over to the blonde before yawning and laying back down, "I look after your stupid pets all night just for you to wake me up, like, first thing in the morning."

She rolled over grumpily, and Quinn rolled her eyes, grinning as she fussed over Barney. Suddenly, the brunette sat upright once more, grabbing the back of the couch and pulling herself up so she could stare at the blonde.

"Hold on." She held up a finger, staring blankly at Quinn, "It's first thing in the morning."

"And the sunlight isn't burning your skin. The curse is lifted!" The blonde cheered flippantly, and Santana rolled her eyes.

"No, what I_ mean_ is…its first thing in the morning!" She vaulted over the back of the sofa before running over to Quinn, wrapping her arms around the girl's waist and lifting her into the air with a cheer. "Oh my _God_, my little girl is all grown up!" She pretended to wipe a tear away as Quinn rolled her eyes, taking a step back from the girl.

"Okay, calm down! Settle yourself."

"So how was it?" She asked excitedly, "I'll make coffee, you sit down. Tell me about it!"

Quinn rolled her eyes again, "Santana! Calm down, we didn't even-"

"What?" The girl stopped halfway to the kitchen, turning slowly to look at Quinn, pouting slightly, "Awh man. You didn't?"

She took a deep breath, "No. We didn't. We almost…did, but…no." She shrugged, "Sorry."

Santana sighed, sitting down at the dining table, her shoulders hunched with disappointment, "How come?"

"Well, I dunno, we were kissing and…everything and…you know, the date was really good! And we went back to her apartment and…it was all _really_ good!" She grinned at the memory before realising that Santana was watching her. She immediately set her features straight, shifting uncomfortably.

Santana smirked to herself, "So then _why_ didn't you _do _her?"

"I don't know. We were, like, halfway there…but I don't know. It just felt a little too soon." She shook her head with an uneasy shrug, "Our first date, and I don't know if I'm ready yet, you know."

The brunette sighed, nodding slowly, "I get that. But hey! You stayed over! You managed to circumnavigate one of the most awkward situations known to man. Congratulations, Q." She grinned cheerily, and Quinn chuckled, her cheeks flushing slightly.

"Yeah, and I got her number and we're going to organise another date." She announced proudly, and Santana gasped.

"No _way_!" She giggled, "Quinnie gots game!" She chuckled to herself, and Quinn raised an eyebrow, "God, I am _so_ good. Rachel's been finding you dates for weeks, _months_ even. And I set you up on _one date_ and you get _this_ far. And a second date. The first person you've even been _close_ to making a second date with. I am the _best_."

Quinn rolled her eyes and wandered over to the staircase, "I'm going to change out of this dress. I feel a little over-done for nine am, that's all. You can make coffee."

She jogged up the stairs, ignoring her thick head, and changed quickly. Her bed looked so inviting. Her limbs felt heavy and her mouth felt dry and fuzzy. She had suspected that she'd drank too much after the fourth cocktail. And then when she pulled them both down the stairs to Kitty's apartment. But now she was sure of it. And it hurt.

Returning downstairs with a yawn, she gratefully accepted the cup of strong coffee from Santana, who had also lined up two headache pills and a glass of water. Quinn gave her a grateful smile, and the brunette nodded knowingly before leaving in the direction of the couch once more. Quinn swallowed the pills quickly before joining the girl with a long sigh.

"So did you arrange a second date?" Santana asked, her eyebrows raised.

"No, but I gave her my number and she has mine." Quinn replied, grinning excitedly.

The brunette chuckled, "God, Quinn. Who knew you'd be so irritating when romance finally smacked you in the face?"

"Not me!" She replied brightly, and Santana giggled, shaking her head.

"You're a dork."

"Why are you wearing my t-shirt?" Quinn asked suddenly, "And why haven't you put any pants on yet?"

"Ugh!" Santana rolled her eyes, "When did you become a cop?"

"Put some pants on!" The blonde groaned, and Santana sighed heavily, reaching for her jeans and pulling them on, being sure to make as much fuss as possible.

When she was done, they sat in silence for a few moments, each sipping their coffee and lost in their own individual thoughts. Quinn was re-living the night before and wishing she had been…well, smoother. Less awkward. Less…shuffle-y. She made a mental note to be cooler next time she saw Kitty. Santana was gazing around the living room and contemplating redecorating Quinn's apartment while the girl was out. The paintwork was rather faded. They were interrupted by a buzzing, and Quinn reached out for her bag from the evening before, which was abandoned on the arm of the sofa. After scrabbling around, she finally retrieved her phone and turned it so she could read the name that had appeared on the screen.

"That's not Berry, is it?" Santana groaned, before perking up suddenly, "Ooh! But if it _is_, can I gloat about how awesome your date was?"

"It's not Rachel." The blonde revealed, glancing sidelong at Santana, who gasped.

"Is it her?"

"She text me." Quinn admitted with a pleased grin.

**Hey :) just got to training and was thinking of you K xxx**

"No way!" Santana clapped her hands against her thighs excitedly, "Holy shit! It's finally happening!"

"Shut up." The blonde chuckled, "You're such a geek."

"Reply! What are you going to say?"

"I don't know." She shrugged before tapping out a response.

**Good. Santana is quizzing me all about you ;) Q xxx**

"What are you doing? Why would you tell her that?" Santana looked horrified, "And why didn't you run that past me! You know I'm so much better with girls than you are!"

"Do you think I'll sound weird?" Quinn frowned, biting her lip worriedly.

"Yes!"

**And what are you saying? Only good things I hope xxxx**

"Four kisses." The blonde shrugged smugly, "Just sayin'"

"Holy shit." Santana shook her head slowly, looking amazed.

**What else could I possibly say? Xxxx**

"Oh my God." The brunette whispered in a voice filled with wonder, "_I've created a monster_."

Quinn snorted, turning to give her best friend a sarcastic stare, before calling out, "It's aliiiive!" and waving her hands in the air.

**You are so smooth. I have to go stretch now ;) call you later xxxxx**

"Oh my God, she's going to go stretch!" Santana gasped, "And _she told you_ that she was going to go stretch! She _wanted you to know_ that she's going to go stretch! Oh my God. You're _so_ gonna get some."

The blonde giggled coyly as Santana rambled, before shrugging happily, "You know, I just might."

Santana held her hand aloft with a proud grin, and Quinn chuckled, reaching up to slap the girl's hand triumphantly. The brunette nodded to herself,

"That's my girl."


	15. Chapter 15

**Hey! I'm sorry it's taken me so long to update this story but I was away on a training week with work, plus I was writing my OTHER current Hallowe'en-y fic, A Perfect Day. So go check that shit out! Thank you for reading and reviewing, as always, and you are all fantastic!**

* * *

"So how's things with Brody?" Quinn sing-songed his name and Rachel flushed, "Come on, spill the beans." She glanced up from where she was pouring wine into two glasses, and the brunette smiles, shrugging shyly.

"He's great. I've seen him like eight times in the last two weeks." She admitted quietly, before accepting her drink with a nod, "Although…no, never mind."

Quinn reached out to turn a few knobs and switches on the cooker, before turning back to Rachel with a frown, "What's wrong?"

"Nothing!" Rachel shrugged, waving a hand dismissively, "It's nothing."

"…okay." The blonde nodded, obviously unconvinced as she rummaged in the cupboards for two pans, before slamming them down on the cooker awkwardly.

"So how was your date with that mean girl?" Rachel asked indulgently, leaning against a counter and taking another sip of her wine.

Quinn sniggered, bustling through the cupboards for a moment before straightening up and giving the girl a casual smile, "It was pretty good."

Rachel stared at her, narrowed her eyes, and then gasped dramatically, "What? Are you _actually_ telling me that you went on a date that _didn't_ end in a completely horrifying disaster?"

"Yes! Yes I am." The blonde threw her hands in the air triumphantly and Rachel cackled loudly.

"No way! So it was good?"

"The best date I've been on so far. I mean, at first I thought she was going to be an asshole and then she thought she was supposed to be on a date with Santana because Santana is a sneaky weasel. But then Kitty turned out to be really nice and we went up to the roof and drank cocktails and then went back to hers and I stayed over." She finished with a shy shrug, though her grin almost matched Rachel's, who wiggled her eyebrows suggestively.

"So how was she?"

Quinn rolled her eyes, "We didn't _do it_. I just stayed over, and we slept."

"No way! Oh my God." Rachel's jaw dropped gleefully. "So have you spoken to her since then?"

"Since last night?" The blonde quirked an eyebrow sarcastically, "Not really, we texted a little this morning but that's it. I'll probably call her tomorrow or something." She shrugged with a small smile, and Rachel nodded slowly.

"Well…great. I'm glad everything is…going so, you know, _well_ for you." The girl's smile looked forced, and she quickly turned around to fuss over Barney.

"I know, who'd have thought that Santana_ actually_ had the ability to empathize with and understand human emotions? And who'd have thought that both you _and_ I would be kinda-sorta-dating, and be kinda-sorta-successful with it?" She shook her head disbelievingly and reached for a wooden spoon to stir the pan on the stove.

Rachel nodded non-committedly, and though Quinn frowned, she refrained from asking for further details about Brody. She wasn't entirely sure if she trusted this guy, but Rachel seemed happy with him. Mostly. It suddenly occurred to her that she actually had no idea what this guy looked like, which seemed odd. Usually Rachel would be itching to show her, and she wondered if maybe Brody wasn't as good looking as her past conquests. Or if he had a large growth on his face somewhere. Although, come to think of it, wasn't he the next big thing on Broadway? Probably not a horrible growth then. Shame.

She turned her thoughts to Kitty as she rummaged through various jars. Though she was over the moon with the result of their date, especially compared to her previous experiences, she had to admit that with less alcohol in her bloodstream, she had a somewhat less rosy outlook on the situation. She appreciated that Kitty had been so understanding, and knew that not many others would have behaved so…amicably. Amicably seemed like the correct word. Kitty had been a true gentleman, and Quinn felt mildly ashamed of herself when she considered how she had initially judged the girl and passed her off as an arrogant bitch, when in actual fact Kitty had turned out to be fun, kind, understanding and actually rather sweet. She made a mental note to be extra nice to the girl next time she saw her, which would hopefully be soon, and smiled to herself.

-oOo-

"Okay, shall I serve it up?" Quinn called from the kitchen.

"Yeah, we're ready." Rachel shouted from the dining area, where she was laying the table. The blonde shared out the contents of the pan onto two plates, attempting to make it look presentable and stylish before giving in and settling for making it look edible. She picked up the plates and turned to carry them through, but gasped delightedly as she reached the kitchen door.

Long, red candles sat flickering in a candelabra that Rachel had placed in the middle of the dining table. The rest of the apartment would have been in darkness if it weren't for the fact that every available surface was sprinkled with tea-light candles, which illuminated the room in a soft glow. Quinn giggled, shaking her head at the proud brunette who sat politely at the table. She rolled her eyes and carried the plates over, placing Rachel's gently down in front of her.

"This is very nice. What's this in aid of?" She asked, quirking an eyebrow.

The brunette shrugged happily, "It's been a while since we had a date night so I thought I'd treat you. And seeing as you put so much effort into dinner."

"Well, thanks." Quinn grinned, "I tried to make it look nice but it went a little wrong. But I promise it'll still taste nice." She nodded confidently and Rachel wiggled her eyebrows before scooping a large forkful and placing it delicately into her mouth.

"Oh my _God_." She stared wide-eyed at the blonde, who raised her eyebrows expectantly, "It's gorgeous! Wow, I have no idea why we get take-out so often." Rachel shook her head adamantly, "I mean, you're a _really_ good cook. And like, I forget _every_ time."

"I know why." The blonde nodded.

"Why?"

"I'm really fucking lazy." She replied seriously, "And it takes too much effort to _buy ingredients_ and, you know…cook them."

Rachel rolled her eyes, shovelling another bite into her mouth, "Well, it's delicious. And I appreciate your lack of laziness for me." She reached across the table to give Quinn's hand a squeeze, and the blonde's chest tightened. Her fingers lingered on the blonde's knuckles for a moment before she pulled her hand back to rest it on the table, inches from Quinn's.

She stared from her own hand to Rachel's, glancing shiftily between the two as she stabbed at a piece of courgette, making her fork screech across the plate. Rachel's face scrunched in displeasure as a shiver ran down her spine, and Quinn grimaced apologetically.

"So, what's Kitty really like then? Tell me properly, not just a brief overview of the date." Rachel instructed her with a nod, and the blonde took a deep breath.

"Uh…" She let the breath out in a long sigh, gazing thoughtfully at the candles around the room, "Well, she was funny in a really dry, sarcastic way. A little like Santana, if Santana was less…cruel and unforgiving. Like, there was one moment where she was making fun of me and I totally couldn't tell and got a little offended. Which was awkward, but it was cool." She shrugged, chewing her mouthful before adding, "In fact, there were quite a lot of awkward moments."

"Isn't that just your life?" Rachel frowned, her tone void of any sarcasm or mockery, and Quinn chuckled with a nod.

"I suppose so. She was great about it though, even when something awkward happened she'd just smile and say something sweet to make me blush."

"You blushed?" The brunette raised her eyebrows, nodding slowly.

Quinn giggled, chewing her lip, "Yeah. I spent a lot of time blushing. And she was a _really_ good kisser-"

"Cool, so you'll see her again and everything's awesome!" Rachel cut her off with a shrill laugh, and the blonde turned back to her food contentedly.

"So how're your dads? I feel like I haven't seen them in forever!" Quinn rolled her eyes as the smaller girl shrugged.

"They're really good. Although, Daddy was telling me that Toby had to go to the vet this week." Rachel tutted as Quinn's eyes widened.

"Why? What's wrong with him?" She demanded, her voice panicked, "Is he okay?"

Toby was the Staffordshire Bull Terrier they had acquired when a neighbour was planning to take him to the shelter. The Berrys had known he would surely be put down, and had intervened. He had turned out to be a compliant and loyal pet, if a little simple-minded, and Quinn's stomach turned at the prospect. Thankfully, Rachel nodded with a breezy wave of her hand.

"Yeah, they thought he might have cancer again and he snores super-loud so they took him in for a general, you know, check-up." She shrugged calmly and Quinn nodded interestedly.

"So it wasn't cancer?"

"No. Although the vet checked his teeth, because one came out the other week while my dad was brushing them, and you know how Toby's breath is like…_really _bad?"

Quinn grimaced with disgust, "God, yes."

"Well apparently the vet was checking his teeth and got a whiff of his breath and _genuinely_ said 'Ooh, he's a little gruesome.' How awful is that?" She chuckled, "A man who sees _hundreds _of animals every week, a man who puts his _fingers_ up the-"

"Okay!" The blonde cut her off, pointing to her plates, "Eating."

Rachel grimaced guiltily, "Sorry. Anyway, so even the _vet_ thought his breath was awful, poor boy. But he has these pills and eye drops and all kinds of medication. And actually, his breath _does_ smell much better."

"Good to know." Quinn nodded, "Poor boy, he's falling apart."

"He's just old, I suppose." Rachel shrugged, "Happens to everyone."

The blonde smiled, leaning to peer past Rachel to where Barney was laid stretched out on the floor, "Awh, I can't wait until Barney is old and rancid."

"And just as handsome as ever!" Rachel added enthusiastically, raising her glass in a cheers.

Quinn frowned as they sat in silence, before looking up and craning her neck to focus on the windows, "Is it raining outside?" She asked, sounding confused.

The brunette turned in her chair for a better look, before nodding, "It would appear so. And about time, too. It's so humid outside, maybe some rain will clear the air a little."

"I hope so. Although we're gonna have to take Barney out at some point." Quinn's mouth twisted with dread.

"Maybe it'll have stopped by then?" Rachel shrugged.

The blonde nodded, looking unconvinced, "Mmm."

They chatted easily as they cleared their plates, before retiring to the sofa with stomachs full and heavy. Rachel groaned as she dropped down onto the patchwork cover, while Quinn retrieved the remote from Cobweb's cat bed before joining the brunette.

"So what's the plan now?" She asked, rolling her head to the side to look at Quinn, who shrugged.

"I don't know. You wanna check Netflix for any good movies?" Rachel nodded, taking the remote from the blonde and pressing various buttons, whilst Quinn yawned loudly. Her yawn turned into a groan as Rachel gasped hopefully when she came across a movie about a struggling actress' fight for survival in a post-apocalyptic educational environment. The blonde shook her head adamantly, and Rachel eventually gave in with a petulant sigh. She continued searching, eventually settling on a musical horror. Quinn frowned. "_You_ want to watch a horror movie? You hate horror movies."

"It's a musical horror. Like Sweeney Todd; I bet it's not even scary!" Rachel scoffed, but the blonde raised an eyebrow.

"Okay. We can…give it a try." She nodded, and the smaller girl whooped triumphantly, throwing a fist in the air. She set the movie to play, sitting back and rubbing her hands together excitedly. Quinn rolled her eyes with a chuckle, lifting her feet onto the coffee table as the opening credits began to play on the large screen.

-oOo-

"Holy shit! Who saw_ that_ coming? _Not me!_ Not me at all!" Rachel's voice was shrill and monotone as she babbled through the gruesome scene playing out in front of them.

Quinn's horrified grimace was practically comical as her stomach turned. She decided that she wholly regretted agreeing to this movie. She could understand why the character was a _struggling _actress, though that could have been the actual actress' rather limited skills. Though it had to be said, the shock factor made up for the unbelievable facial _non_-expressions. She watched a chainsaw hack through someone's shoulder and immediately recoiled, clapping her hands to her mouth. She winced slightly as Rachel's nails dug into her leg and the brunette buried her face in Quinn's shoulder.

"Oh God, why did you make me watch this?" She moaned, peeking at the screen through one half-closed eye.

Rachel shook her head desperately, "I'm sorry! I didn't think it would be like this!"

"I said it would be like this! You _hate_ horror movies!" Quinn answered in a strangled voice as Rachel whimpered beside her. "And so do I!"

"Can we put something else on? I mean, I know we promised we'd always watch to the end – even if a movie is _really_ bad, but-"

She was interrupted by a loud rumble of thunder that made both girls squeal as a flash of lightning illuminated the apartment.

"Well that was unfortunate timing." Quinn whimpered as the brunette turned back to the TV before burying her face in the blonde's neck almost immediately.

"Okay no. Get this off my TV!" Quinn interrupted, and Rachel immediately stretched out across the couch, grabbing the remote and switching the whole TV off in a desperate panic. They sat in silence for a couple of seconds, and Rachel's heart raced as Quinn took long breaths in an attempt to calm herself down. There was a creaking noise from the hallway, and they both started, screaming loudly and clutching to each other.

"Okay, it's nothing." Rachel spoke slowly, nodding as if trying to convince herself. Quinn glanced to the front door and back to the small girl at her side, before nodding confidently.

"This is an old building, it always creaks and stuff. Or you know, Number Two might be getting home?" She suggested with a shrug, but Rachel snorted.

"Oh, please. We both know Number Two never goes out."

Quinn nodded her agreement, "Yeah, that's true. That's why I'm Number One." She quipped proudly, wiggling her eyebrows and nudging the brunette, who shook her head slowly.

"Hang your head in shame, Quinn Fabray. In shame."

As the blonde chuckled at her own pun, Barney began whimpering loudly. Rachel raised her eyebrows and tilted her head sympathetically, "Really? You can't hold it?" She took a deep breath, "Okay, then."

"Ugh. It's a fully-fledged storm out there now." Quinn dragged herself off the sofa and crossed to the pegs, retrieving Barney's collar and bending over to slip it around his neck, "Wish I'd walked him earlier." She pouted playfully, "Are you coming?" She raised her eyebrows at Rachel as she forced her feet into her skate shoes, and the brunette nodded, taking a deep breath and pushing herself off the couch. They made sure to wear extra layers and waterproof jackets, and Rachel dropped the keys into her jacket pocket as she followed Quinn and Barney from the apartment.

"Ugh!" Quinn repeated as they stepped out onto the street.

Both girls were sodden through within minutes, and Rachel wrestled her hood over her head, grumbling consistently under her breath as they trudged across to the park. Barney jogged alongside them as they strode around the perimeter, his features set in a pitiful simper. His coat was damp and he shivered as a large drop fell from a tree and splashed down between his eyes. Quinn's head was bowed, and the rain dripped steadily down her unprotected neck, leaving a freezing trail down her back. They traipsed along in silence, their pace slowly quickening as their clothes became more and more soaked.

By the time they left the park, they were half-running, until Quinn loudly exclaimed, "Oh, fuck this!" and took off at a sprint. Rachel squealed indignantly at the prospect of being left on her own in the rain, before darting after the two blondes, who were now quite a distance away. She caught up to them as they reached Quinn's street, and Rachel careered into the pair as they huddled by the front door, crushing them against the wet doorframe. Quinn managed to push the door open a second later and they fell through it into the dry hallway with a relieved sigh. Rachel pulled her hood back and flicked water off her arms as the blonde girl shook her head, drops of rain splattering across the walls as the ends of her hair whipped round in a movement spookily akin to that of her dog.

Rachel watched with a wry smile before turning and leading the way up to the apartment, unlocking the door quickly and holding it open for Quinn and Barney. The blonde leaned over to remove Barney's collar, taking a towel from one of the pegs to dry the retriever's sopping coat, while Rachel peeled off her various wet layers. Quinn straightened up as Barney jogged off in the direction of the living room, and Rachel stepped up to help remove her jacket and hoodie, both of which were soaked through.

"Ugh, come on. I'll lend you some dry clothes." Quinn led the way up the metal staircase, the bottom of her jeans leaving wet rings on the steps as she ascended. As she reached the bedroom, she tugged her t-shirt off over her head, whilst Rachel began unbuttoning her jeans, both girls eager to change into warm, dry clothes. "Do you want pyjamas or jeans?" The blonde added as she pulled open the wardrobe.

"Pyjamas. It's past eleven; I have no need for clothes now." Rachel shrugged, pulling her shirt off and crossing to the wardrobe to stand behind Quinn, who was rummaging through the various pyjama bottoms for a pair small enough to fit Rachel.

"Got some." She spun on the spot and almost collided with Rachel. She hadn't heard the girl cross the room in her bare feet, and swallowed hard as her eyes travelled from the floor to Rachel's earnest expression. She was suddenly very aware of her bare skin, and wished she had left her wet t-shirt on, even if it had been giving her a chill.

She took a small step backward, clearing her throat quietly and ensuring to look everywhere other than at Rachel's underwear as she offered the pyjamas in her hand. The brunette took them with a small chuckle, and Quinn could feel her cheeks burn as she turned back to the wardrobe.

"Oh, there's a clean t-shirt on my bed, could you pass it?" She asked over her shoulder as she plucked out another pair of tartan pyjama bottoms.

"Oh, yeah sure." Rachel nodded, grabbing the t-shirt from the bed and turning to pass it to Quinn. After balancing on each leg, the blonde pulled her pyjama pants up and turned to accept the shirt. She blushed again as she realised that Rachel was still stood in her underwear and bare feet, holding the pyjamas in her hand. For a split second she thought she detected a glimmer of a challenge in the brunette's eyes, until Rachel raised her eyebrows, "Do you have a shirt for me?"

Quinn blinked for a second before realisation dawned, "Shit, yeah. I'm sorry, uh…here." She found a t-shirt and passed it to Rachel, who took it with an easy smile.

"Thanks." She gave a single nod of her head, but didn't move to change. Quinn swallowed again, glancing down as the brunette's lips parted slowly. There was silence aside from the noise of the rain hammering on the skylight, and Quinn could hear Rachel release a shaky breath. "Um…crazy storm, huh?" Rachel glanced up at the ceiling as another flash of lightning lit the room for a split second, and Quinn nodded dumbly.

She turned back to the blonde, who gave her a weak smile, before stepping back and unfolding the pyjamas. Quinn took a deep breath, attempting to calm her nerves as she turned away to close the wardrobe door. By the time she turned around, Rachel was tugging the t-shirt over her head. She allowed herself a quick glance at the girl's midriff before forcing her gaze away as the brunette pulled the hem down to her waist and ruffled her hair back into position. She cleared her throat quietly and moved across to the top of the staircase, jerking her head at Rachel who followed behind with a content smile.

They made their way downstairs and Quinn made hot chocolate for them both while Rachel began blowing out the multitude of candles, until only the larger, more reliable candles were lighting the room. Barney and Cobweb lay curled together on the sofa, and Rachel giggled as she saw them, beckoning the blonde over to see. Quinn carried the two steaming cups over to where Rachel was hovering over the animals, her phone in hand to capture the moment. She grinned, her nose wrinkling as she took in the site, before passing one cup across to Rachel, who accepted it gratefully. Crossing her ankles, she lowered herself down until she was sat on the floor, sipping her chocolate before gently placing the mug on the coffee table.

The brunette grinned, dropping down beside the blonde and tilting her head until it was resting on Quinn's shoulder, "God, I'm so glad we don't have to go out in that rain again."

"I know." Quinn nodded, "I hope it's stopped by tomorrow."

"It better have. I don't have the money for a cab if it hasn't." Rachel snorted, "I'd be a very wet."

The blonde was taking a sip of her drink, and she coughed suddenly at the smaller girl's accidental slur. The hot liquid burnt her throat as she accidentally breathed in, and she began spluttering messily. Abandoning her drink on the coffee table, she clutched at her chest as her eyes began to water from coughing. She finally cleared her windpipe as Rachel was rubbing her back, her brow etched with concern.

"Are you okay?" She asked worriedly, "What brought that on?"

Quinn gave her a weak smile, shrugging her shoulders, "No idea."

-oOo-

"Okay, I'd better run or I'll be late." Rachel was rushing around her apartment collecting her belongings. Quinn was pretty sure the girl was leaving with more possessions than she arrived with, and she frowned in puzzlement as she watched the brunette, sat on the coffee table dunking a cookie into her coffee.

"Cool, have you got everything?" She raised her eyebrows but her face immediately fell as the soggy half of the cookie drooped and plopped into her mug, sinking into a mushy mess at the bottom.

"Um, I think so." The smaller girl frowned, "Oh no, wait."

She spun around quickly, jogging up the spiral staircase in a hurried frenzy. As Quinn watched her go, she was distracted by a knock at the door. Her brow furrowed, and she sat still, staring blankly at the front door.

"Are you going to answer that?" Rachel called from the bedroom, but the blonde didn't move.

"Why is somebody knocking on my door?"

The brunette rolled her eyes as she appeared at the top of the stairs once more, "Ooh, I don't know. Maybe they're visiting you?"

"Who?" Quinn demanded as the visitor knocked again, "Santana just walks in and nobody else could get in without me buzzing them in."

"Just answer and find out!" Rachel rolled her eyes and flounced across to the front door, and Quinn rushed across, still holding her coffee cup and half-cookie before the girl could pull the door open with a dramatic flourish.

Quinn's jaw dropped and Rachel's eyebrows raised slowly as the blonde girl stood beaming in the hallway.

"Ooh, this is awkward, I found you with another girl." Kitty teased, pretending to look shocked and offended, "Is this your secret girlfriend?" She raised an eyebrow knowingly at Quinn, who chortled.

"You're pretty lucky she isn't." She nodded to Rachel, who was still stood dumbstruck, "She may be little, but she'd rip your eyes right out." She gave the girl a cheeky wink and Kitty giggled. Her eyes scanned down the girl's body, and she was intrigued to see the girl in a simple, baggy white t-shirt and black leggings with red converse.

"I'm sorry, I must seem so rude. I'm Kitty." She held a hand out to Rachel, who smiled tightly and shook it.

"Well,_ I_ must seem rude but I'm Rachel and I was actually just leaving." She gave a curt nod before turning back to Quinn with a shrug, "Okay so…I guess I'll just see you later." She glanced back at Kitty before pulling her best friend into a tight hug. There was an awkward silence as she shuffled past the other blonde, before waving over her shoulder and disappearing down the stairs.

"So what are you doing here?" Quinn drawled, leaning against the door frame with a cocky smile, "And how do you know where I live? And how the _hell_ did you get into my building?"

"I came to see you." Kitty replied matter-of-factly, leaning forward to press a kiss to the girl's cheek, "I bribed Santana into telling me where you live. And the guy on the other side of the hall was leaving so he let me in."

"What?" She almost spat out a mouthful of coffee as she stared incredulously at Kitty, "No way, you're lying."

The blonde frowned, looking confused, "Why would I lie?"

"So it's a guy that lives over there?" The girl nodded, "No way. And he just let you in? That's a little alarming."

"Am I missing something?" Kitty's eyes narrowed momentarily, until Barney came bouncing across the room to knock her off-balance. He jumped up excitedly, resting his paws on her hips as Kitty ruffled his ears enthusiastically.

"Sorry, come on in. This is Barney, and somewhere over there…is Cobweb." Quinn stepped back to allow the girl entry to the apartment, "And sorry it's a little messy." She pushed past her, bustling into the living room with two large plastic bags, "And it's just weird that you saw that guy, I've lived here for years and I've literally never met him or seen him or _heard_ him. It's crazy."

"That _is _crazy." Kitty nodded, placing the bags on the floor behind the sofa, "God, why are you so anti-social Quinn? Do you hate him? Are you a racist?" She demanded seriously, before giggling and prodding Quinn in the ribs. "I got you. Shoulda seen your face."

"Anyway, not that it isn't a pleasure to have you buy your way into my apartment, but what are you doing here? Do you want a coffee?" She held up her mug, eyebrows raised, but the blonde shook her head and waved a hand dismissively.

Kitty grinned, looking proud of herself, "Okay, so on our_ first_ date, we did something that _I_ find fun. AKA heavy drinking and architecture followed by heavy petting."

"I also had fun, for the record." Quinn interjected, but the other girl ignored her as she took a seat on the couch. She followed suit, pperching on the edge of the coffee table once more and sipping her drink.

"So _I_ decided that _this time_ I would surprise you and we would do something that _you_ find fun."

"We're going bowling!" The blonde announced loudly, throwing her hands in the air triumphantly, and Kitty began laughing.

"No! I mean, unless you particularly want to. But I was thinking…" She leaned forward, stroking her fingers along one of Quinn's forearms, "We could have, like, a lazy day. You know, I brought pyjama pants and a _ton_ of movies, almost every movie I have. Even some of the embarrassing ones. And we can eat too much bad food, and keep the blinds closed all day and…stew in our own filth. What do you think?"

"How do you know I don't have super-important big plans for the day?" Quinn asked teasingly, raising an eyebrow.

Kitty snorted, "Because I asked Santana and her reply was 'Ugh, Quinn _never_ has plans.' So I took a risk. Now are you accepting my flashy, expensive date plan or should I go hunt down another cute blonde girl to watch movies with?"

"Of course I'm accepting your date plan! I've never been wined and dined like it, I'm so lucky." She captured Kitty's roaming fingers and linked them with hers, tugging the girl towards her for an indulgent kiss. "It sounds awesome."

"It _will _be awesome." The blonde nodded firmly, "I'm gonna rock your pyjama pants." She clapped her hands together in an authoritative manner and gazed seriously at Quinn, "Okay. There's Ben and Jerry's in the biggest bag so you need to go put that in the fridge. The rest of the food is also in that bag. Luckily you're already in pyjamas, but I need to go change into mine. The movies are in the other bag."

"Back here at eleven hundred hours?" Quinn teased, and Kitty nodded, pulling a comically serious expression before saluting and standing up. They made their way round to the bags where Kitty retrieved her pyjamas and Quinn picked up the bag of food to carry it to the kitchen. The blonde stripped her leggings off in the middle of the living room and Quinn chuckled, rolling her eyes before turning and heading to the kitchen.

When she returned, Kitty was sat on the sofa in her flower-patterned pyjama bottoms, setting the DVD cases out in a line on the coffee table, whilst Barney was stretched out with his head in her lap.

"So what's first on the list?" Quinn asked, raising her eyebrows as she moved across to the blinds, "And I'm sorry about him, he has no boundaries or concept of personal space. Mostly because he's a dog, partly because he's a selfish asshole." She pulled the cord and the blinds snapped shut as Kitty giggled on the sofa.

"Movie choice is all yours. And I really don't mind him; he's a sweetie. I wish I was allowed a dog at my apartment." She shrugged disappointedly as Quinn made her way over to the sofa, dropping down beside Kitty and gazing down at the line of movies. "Okay, I vote The Breakfast Club or Ferris Bueller's Day Off. Also, wow. How many eighties movies do you own?"

Kitty shook her head seriously, "Don't you dare. Best decade ever."

"I don't dispute that." Quinn shook her head, "I'm just impressed. Though I will draw the line at St Elmo's Fire."

"Breakfast Club it is, then." The blonde grinned, passing the DVD case across to Quinn, "You'll have to put the disc in, I have Barney."

"Excuses, excuses." She glared playfully as Kitty took hold of Barney's paws, moving them so it looked as though he were dancing. "And also…I brought a blanket."

"A blanket?" Quinn asked incredulously as she squatted down at the TV cabinet, "It's the middle of summer. I know I live in an old building but what were you expecting?"

"I know!" Kitty replied defensively, chuckling despite herself, "It was in case you wanted to snuggle, but now I withdraw my offer." She turned away mock-petulantly as Quinn returned to the sofa, sitting down heavily beside Kitty and planting a quick kiss on her lips before the girl could turn away again.

"Gotcha."

"Sneak."

Quinn turned away with a smug grin, pressing play on the remote and shifting until she was comfortable. The opening music began to play and Kitty reached out to her, flapping her hands excitedly at Quinn, who shied away with a giggling squeal.

"Ah, no! It tickles! It tickles!" She shrieked, but the blonde shushed her, lifting a finger to her lips.

"Shhh! Shhh! It's a scary jail break, shh!" She replied mock-seriously before giggling and resting her head on Quinn's shoulder. Quinn grinned over the top of the girl's head, before reaching over for one of the hands in Kitty's lap and intertwining her fingers with hers.

-oOo-

Quinn smiled as she side-eyed Kitty, who was bobbing her head along with the theme music. She noticed the other girl watching her, and suddenly snapped her head round to face Quinn, exclaiming in a low, mimicking voice, "Sincerely, The Breakfast Club."

"So you're secretly a dork too, as well as secretly nice." Quinn chortled, and Kitty smirked before punching the air with her fist.

"Yes I am. But I don't hear you complaining." She grinned triumphantly before her eyes widened with anticipation, "Ooh, do you want ice cream?"

"I was thinking pizza." Quinn replied, wincing seriously, and Kitty chewed at her lip.

"Okay," She announced, nodding decisively, "Why don't we order pizza delivery for lunch, stuff our faces and then finish with ice cream?"

"Yes! What pizza do you like?"

Kitty shrugged, "Literally anything as long as there's no anchovies."

"Hawaiian?"

"I love Hawaiian!" The girl exclaimed, and Quinn smiled calmly.

"You are perfect."

Kitty giggled coyly, hiding her face for a moment before handing her phone to Quinn, "Call them."

-oOo-

"So, this may seem odd seeing as I've been here like…over two hours, but who was the girl who answered the door?" Kitty asked as she opened her mouth for Quinn to shovel in another spoonful of ice cream. "Aside from 'Rachel.'"

They were sat cross-legged on the couch, facing each other and each wielding a spoon, while the tub of Ben and Jerry's sat on the lid of the empty pizza box between them. Quinn's face screwed up in a painful grimace as freezing cold pain shot through her forehead, and Kitty giggled sympathetically.

"Sorry, I'll make sure the next one is a smaller spoonful."

When Quinn had recovered, she finally opened her eyes and replied. "Thank you. But yeah, Rachel's my best friend and she stayed over last night. She lives far away and I'd have felt bad making her walk home through that storm." She shrugged and Kitty nodded avidly.

"That _would_ have been a little harsh. To be fair, I didn't really suspect that anything was _going on_, it wasn't like when I asked about Santana. I was just, you know, curious."

Quinn shook her head, an uncomfortable feeling settling in her stomach as she shrugged, "Yeah, don't worry. I've known Santana since High School but I didn't meet Rachel until we came to New York. She's still my best friend though. They both are. They're the best." She realised she was rambling, and by the amused expression on Kitty's face, she imagined she had too. A blush crept up her neck and she looked down at the tub, scraping out another spoonful and willing her heart-rate to slow from the panicked drumming it had sped into.

"Okay." Kitty nodded knowingly, opening her mouth to accept the offered spoonful, "Cool." She shrugged and took another spoonful herself, grinning as she made an aeroplane noise and swung the spoon into Quinn's mouth.

"So what are we watching next?" Quinn nodded to the DVDs through her mouthful, "Your choice."

"Ooh," The blonde frowned thoughtfully, "I'm thinking we break from the eighties and go with…Silver Linings Playbook. Have you seen it?"

"No! I haven't. I've been meaning to." Quinn nodded, reaching out for the movie and reading the description on the back, while Kitty shook her head slowly, taking a deep breath.

"Oh my God. I know it's only been like, _two _dates and even though I'm sat in pyjamas on your couch eating ice cream, I don't really know you _that_ well. But I _know _that you will love it."

Quinn nodded, "Okay! This movie's going to change my life. Let's watch it. I'm about to have a religious experience, I can feel the early onset." She spoke decisively as she pushed herself off the sofa and knelt in front of the TV.

-oOo-

"That dance was awesome. I wish I could dance like that." Quinn pouted down at Kitty, who lifted her head from the girl's chest to give her a sympathetic smile. Throughout the movie they had slowly travelled further and further down the couch, until Quinn was laid on her back with her head resting on the arm, and Kitty was laid on her stomach on top of her, her head twisted to watch the film.

"I know, right?" She nodded, "They're so cool. Although, if I was ever dancing with you…I'd like it if you could _do_ the lift and you didn't awkwardly half-drop me like Pat does."

Quinn laughed loudly as she nodded, "Yeah, so would I. Although, if _we_ were doing that dance wouldn't _you _be Pat?"

"Are you calling me a man?" Kitty deadpanned.

"No! Of course not!" She giggled, "I mean, you're the cheerleader. You're all super-strong and you boosted Santana into a tree. Surely _you'd_ be the one doing the lift?"

"Oh yeah." The other girl nodded seriously, "Okay, good call." Suddenly her face lit up excitedly, "Ooh, let's do it!"

"What?" Quinn frowned.

Kitty placed her hands either sided of Quinn's head, pushing herself up to stare down at the blonde, "Let's do the dance! Or at least the lift."

"Are you crazy?" She scoffed, "That's like when people try to do the lift from Dirty Dancing and they just end up with a broken nose and a stinking hangover."

The other girl frowned, "I can do the lift from Dirty Dancing."

"That is not true."

Kitty frowned, looking as confused as Quinn, "When do people break their nose doing the Dirty Dancing lift?"

"Like all the time, no one who isn't Patrick Swayze can do that lift. Not in real life. The only people who can are like…dancers."

"Or…cheerleaders?" Kitty suggested, her eyebrows raised. She chuckled as Quinn seemed to weigh up the options, her mouth twisted thoughtfully until eventually she nodded. "I'll show you."

The blonde pushed herself off the sofa and stood beside Quinn, holding out a hand, which went ignored as Quinn sat up, staring incredulously back at her. "You're kidding. Even if you could just lift me above your head like a super-human…" She shook her head with a small shrug, "Like a super human. There is no way I could plank for that long."

"Just try!" Kitty insisted, grabbing Quinn under the arms and pulling her effortlessly to her feet. Quinn suddenly felt weightless, and had to admit that the possibility of success seemed more likely than it had five minutes ago. "Come on, all you do is stand there and stay as straight as you can. Okay, I've seen you in your underwear and I know you're secretly packing." She plucked at the hem of Quinn's t-shirt, revealing a sliver of midriff and making the blonde shy away coyly.

"I don't think I can! _Plus_ I just ate like half a pizza and was then _spoon-fed_ half a tub of ice cream and then ate like…my _body weight_ in peanut butter cups."

"Sure you can! It's fine. Positive mental attitude!" Kitty giggled, "All you do is stay straight and I'll lift you. I promise it'll work."

"Well…I'll try. But staying straight isn't my forte." Quinn grimaced comically and the girls guffawed for a second before Kitty stretched out her arms, taking a few deep breaths and preparing herself.

"Okay, step over here where there's space. Are you ready?" Kitty bent her legs slightly, and she looked up at Quinn with raised eyebrows. The blonde nodded worriedly and Kitty gave her an encouraging grin, "Okay, think strong core."

"Got it." Quinn nodded. Kitty placed her hands across the girl's hips, shifting them until she was in the correct position. She bent her legs a little more, ready to spring back, as Quinn took a deep breath.

She glanced at the girl as Kitty counted down, "Okay three, two, one, jump."

Quinn bounced on the balls of her feet before jumping into the air. She hadn't put any particular effort behind the jump, but all of a sudden she was soaring into the air. Feeling her legs drop towards the floor, she reminded herself to straighten out, though it made her stomach burn a little. Kitty straightened her arms, and for a moment she was speechless as she realised what she was doing.

"See. Told you." Kitty grinned as she held Quinn steadily above her head, "Okay." She swung her arms forward and seconds later Quinn was landing easily back on the hardwood floor in her socks, gaping slightly.

"Oh my God." She was slightly breathless, and the other girl giggled, bumping her nose against Quinn's.

"Told you I could do it. It's all about technique. And guns." She flexed her biceps playfully and Quinn giggled.

"I can't believe you just lifted me above your head. It was so effortless!" She felt her cheeks burning, and quietly admitted, "That was a little bit sexy."

"It was not!" Kitty bowed her head, looking embarrassed.

"No, it kind of was. Like, I only just realised that you could just pick me up whenever you want. And like, sit me on top of the fridge or something." Her last thought made her gaze away distractedly, frowning a little as Kitty stared at her incredulously.

"_That_ is your first thought? Seriously?" Quinn raised an eyebrow, and she shook her head slowly, "You're really cute. I definitely think that most girls' first thought would probably include a different item of furniture."

"Well." Quinn shrugged, resisting the urge to roll her eyes self-deprecatingly, "I'm not most girls, am I?"

"No. You're not." Kitty replied kindly, shaking her head before taking a deep breath, "Which is why I want to tell you something."

"Oh God, are you a man?" Quinn quoted the girl playfully, "Are you secretly straight?"

"No, it's nothing like that. Uh, do you wanna sit down?" Suddenly the blonde was straight-faced, and Quinn couldn't help but frown as she took a seat.

Kitty sat down beside her, and she raised her eyebrows expectantly, "Okay. What's up?"

"So I was thinking about what you told me the other night. And I know that must be a _really_ scary start to a conversation for you, but I just want you to totally hear me out before you say anything. Okay?" Quinn mimed zipping her mouth closed, and Kitty chuckled momentarily, "You see…I really like you. But I don't think this is going to work out. Which is also probably a really weird thing to say, seeing as I came over to your house unannounced for a date. So…I'm sorry. And I'm sorry I'm not explaining myself very well." She frowned down at the floor, taking a deep breath before turning back to Quinn, "Okay. I really like you, and I've had an awesome time with you and I think that if we kept seeing each other…we'd continue to have an awesome time.

"But…whoever you _do_ eventually _do it with_…they should be special. And I'm not special enough." Quinn opened her mouth to reply, looking astonished, but Kitty held up her finger with a kind smile, "I know what you're going to say, and I don't mean it like that, exactly. It's just that…whoever your first ends up being, they should be really, really special. Don't just sell out to someone because it bothers you that you haven't done it yet."

"Then why not you?" Quinn interjected with a shrug, her eyes narrowed with misunderstanding.

Kitty gave a small exhaling laugh, "God, you're so sweet. Okay, so…why not me? Well, even if you'd had sex with three thousand people, I would still be breaking it off. It sounds a little cliché, I guess, but…I just got out of a really long relationship. And I thought I was maybe ready to move on but…I don't think I am."

"Oh." Quinn nodded, once. "Was it a boy or a girl?"

She gave her a small smile, "Girl."

"How long ago is 'just got out of'?" The blonde asked, her eyebrows raised.

"Don't ask that."

"Why?"

Kitty sighed, looking regretful, "It was a year ago."

"So that was line." Quinn nodded, "Okay. I see."

"It wasn't a line." Kitty replied honestly, and she glanced up to meet he girl's stare, which was unwavering.

"Okay. So did she hurt you?" She asked with an interested frown.

The blonde shook her head with a bittersweet expression, "No. Never. Actually, uh…" Her breath was shaky, and she swallowed, "She died."

"Oh." Quinn couldn't move. Kitty shrugged self-consciously, and she averted her gaze so she wasn't staring at the girl. "Okay. Well, I understand then, of course."

"I kind of feel like I should be over it by now, you know? Like, it was a whole year ago, shouldn't I be…getting over it? And moving on? Meeting new people, having an awesome time in the best years of my life?" She shrugged again, chewing on her lip as she stared down at the coffee table, and Quinn tilted her head thoughtfully.

"Do you mind if I ask what was she like?" She asked quietly, and Kitty nodded.

"Ask whatever you want. At first I couldn't bear to talk about her…now I never get tired of it." She glanced around the room, but it was as if she didn't really see it, "Sometimes it's like…the longer I talk about her for…the more real she is. Again."

"So what was she like?" Quinn asked softly, raising one eyebrow. Kitty took a deep breath, blowing it out in a long sigh and sitting back on the sofa.

"Heaven. She was heaven. To me. Not to everyone; _certainly_ not to everyone." She chuckled, nodding firmly, "But to me."

Quinn swallowed, "How did it…happen?"

Kitty licked her lips, taking another long breath, "Breast cancer. Aged twenty-four. Sixteenth of May." Her voice had a tense edge to it, but Quinn could think of no way to comfort her.

"That's really shitty."

The blonde giggled suddenly, "Yeah. It is really shitty." She shook her head slowly, "Fucking twenty-four, man. That's _no age_, you know what I mean?"

"Yeah, I do." Quinn nodded, a deep frown etched across her brow. "So you knew it was coming?"

"Yeah. Which was kind of a blessing, somehow." Kitty shrugged, "Like, it sounds strange but sometimes I hear about freak accidents and sudden deaths and my heart just aches for their families, you know?" Quinn nodded again, "Like, imagine never getting to say goodbye to the person that you think you'll spend your life with. That is literally the only thing I'm thankful for. She went in her sleep, with me holding her hand, and her mom at the end of the bed."

"Not a bad way to go." The blonde shrugged, and Kitty nodded enthusiastically.

"Totally! It was exactly what she would have wanted. Well, you know, it would have been her second choice, after you know…not getting cancer at all." Quinn nodded awkwardly, and Kitty winced, "I'm sorry. When you live with it every day you get used to kind of…de-sensitising yourself. I forget that other people aren't as blasé as I am."

"It's fine. Don't worry about me."

"You know what she said to me once?" Kitty looked up at Quinn, who raised her eyebrows questioningly, "It was when I told her about my mom leaving. We were sat at the kitchen table at her parents' house, and she said 'You don't need to worry about her, you can have my mom. We're your family, too now.'"

"That's sweet." Quinn smiled, and the other girl nodded.

"Yeah, it was really sweet. Wanna know something else? It was our first date." She began giggling, and Quinn allowed herself to join in, though it was with a puzzled frown.

"Your _first date_? Didn't that freak you out?"

She shrugged, "Nope. Actually, it was the day after. We went for lunch on our first date – a blind date – then went for a walk in the park. Then went for dinner. I went back to her college dorm and stayed over; we stayed up until like six in the morning just talking about…everything. The next day she was going to visit her parents so I went with her. We took her dogs for a walk then her mom was making dinner when we got back. I stayed for dinner, and she said it when we were sat at the table afterwards."

"That is amazing."

"I know, right? It was a real-life love story. I met her for lunch that day and…literally never looked back. Not once." Kitty smiled to herself. "_Which is why_," She suddenly announced, "You have to promise me that you're not going to sell yourself short."

"What do you mean?" Quinn frowned.

"You have to promise that you're not going to just…_do it_ with any person on any first date." Kitty shrugged, "It has to be special, and even if you don't spend…the rest of your _life_ with that person, at least make sure they're special. And then, one day…find someone that makes you never, _ever _look back."

She nodded thoughtfully, the movement becoming more decisive, "Okay. I will promise that. Although," She frowned, "For the record, I wasn't going to just sleep with you because you were willing. By the way."

"Who says I was willing?" Kitty sarked, raising an eyebrow before giggling.

"I just mean that, I don't know. To me you're special. And I understand why you wanna like…call it off. I get that, but _for the record_…you're still special." She shifted awkwardly, meeting the girl's gaze to give her an embarrassed grin, and the blonde chuckled.

"God. You are so cute." She replied, shaking her head disbelievingly, "It won't take long for you to find her."

"The girl that'll make me never look back?" Quinn asked, quirking an eyebrow sceptically.

Kitty pursed her lips, both eyebrows raised, "Or maybe you already have?"

She stared back at the girl for a second before bowing her head, swallowing hard. Her chest felt tight as she remembered the night before; Rachel hovering behind her as they changed, the way she had rolled over while she slept, her hand creeping up Quinn's t-shirt to stroke circles on her hip, the tight hug she had pulled her into that morning, as if she wasn't quite ready to say goodbye.

Quinn chewed at her lip, nodding slowly as Kitty gave her a knowing smile, "Okay. I think I should probably go. Before this gets weird and awkward and you don't know what to say because you feel sorry for me and I feel guilty in case I've broken your innocent little heart and the whole thing falls apart."

"You _can_ stay if you want to." Quinn shrugged, "I promise not to touch you inappropriately. If you wanted to, like…stay friends and stuff."

"It's okay." Kitty tilted her head, "Kind of took a lot to tell you all that, and I think I'd kind of like to curl up in a really tight ball and cry for a little while." She replied honestly, and Quinn nodded.

"No problem."

"Stay in touch, though. Yeah?" The blonde reached out to take her hand, "I mean it. Because, if your cat had run up a tree in like…a _year's_ time, maybe…things could have been different." She shrugged, "So maybe if, by some _miracle_, you're still single when I…_finally_ straighten out my head and am less of an emotional wreck…maybe I could treat you to a third date?"

Quinn chuckled, before nodding, "I'll agree to that. If I'm still single when you're ready to start dating, we'll have our official third date. Although this time it's on me."

"Deal." Kitty smiled, before taking a deep breath and standing up, "Okay then."

Quinn packed away the movies and blanket while Kitty ran up to the bedroom to change back into her leggings before returning downstairs. "Are you good to get home and everything?" Quinn asked, "It started raining again while you were lifting me over your head." She chuckled, and Kitty nodded.

"Yeah, I can hail a cab. Don't worry."

Quinn shrugged, "Okay well, I hope you're alright. I packed the rest of the ice cream in the bag again so you can drown your sorrows. And thank you for two of the best dates I've ever been on. Seriously."

"Well, thank you. Because I've had an awesome time, too, and I'm sorry it's ending like this." She looked disappointed, "But for a newbie, you're a pretty awesome date."

"Thanks."

Quinn walked her to the door and they stood awkwardly for a second before both of them pulled the other into a tight hug. They stood on the doorstep clutching each other for a few moments before Kitty eventually pulled away. Her eyes were glistening slightly, but she smiled genuinely.

"I'll see you around."

Quinn nodded, "Hopefully."

She watched the girl wander away down the hall, her bags bouncing off her legs as she walked, before closing the door and resting her back against it with a sigh. Barney had taken up a space on the couch, and he sat up to peer over at her. She raised her eyebrows at him, giving him a slightly melancholy smile.

"Alone again, Barn. Naturally."


End file.
